


bulletproof heart

by orphan_account



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Blade of Marmora Keith (Voltron), Deaf Character, Galra Keith (Voltron), Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Major Character Injury, Misunderstandings, Past Abuse, Self-Harm, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-23
Updated: 2018-05-15
Packaged: 2019-02-18 21:53:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 31,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13109229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Keith doesn’t have friends. Or even acquaintances, for that matter. Which is why he is so confused now, by this lanky, angry-looking boy standing in front of him, insisting that they know each other.Or, Keith is hard of hearing, Lance has anxiety, and they're trying to navigate their place in Voltron and their feelings for each other.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger warnings throughout for self-harm, past abuse, and suicidal thoughts. Please check the notes at the beginning of each chapter! 
> 
> All "Galran" in the story is a mix of various created languages, including Catharese (cat people from Star Wars). 
> 
> Update: 15/05/2018  
> When I started writing this, S5 wasn't out yet so I gave Keith's mom a different name - I have now retconned it to match her name in the show.

_i've got a bulletproof heart_  
_you've got a hollow point smile_  
\- MCR, "Bulletproof Heart"

 

Keith doesn’t have friends. Or even acquaintances, for that matter. Which is why he is so confused now, by this lanky, angry-looking boy standing in front of him, insisting that they know each other.  

“Lance,” the boy says, grabbing Shiro’s other arm and slinging it over his shoulder. Keith turns toward Lance to try to read his lips. "We were in the same class at the Garrison?" Keith blinks.  

Studying at the Garrison had been an exercise in patience with other people’s bullshit, which had lasted exactly fifty-six days before he punched another kid in the face and got kicked out for having “discipline issues”. During those days, while other cadets were hanging out and socializing and having fun, Keith had been focused on aggressively  _not_ getting to know anyone.  

"A-are you an engineer?" Keith asks dumbly, not certain if his answer even matches up with whatever Lance had said previously. He's fairly certain he's not following this conversation at all, and he can't even blame it on his hearing loss. Well, not completely, anyway. 

"No, I'm a pilot!" Lance sounds exasperated, and his two friends are watching them with what Keith  _thinks_ are amused expressions. He's always had a hard time reading people. "We were, like, rivals. You know, Lance and Keith, neck-and-neck." A hazy recollection coalesces in Keith's brain. 

“You're the cargo pilot,” he mumbles after a moment, then returns his focus to the mission. Lance keeps chattering, but Keith can't really hear him anymore, and if he – and the other two – think they’re going to fuck this up, they have another thing coming.  

It’s honestly a miracle that they don’t all die on the hoverbike. The big guy is actually useful, despite Lance yelling the entire time. When they finally make it back to his…well, he wouldn’t call it a home, per se, but his…base of operations, Keith is exhausted and angry and tense. He grabs his hearing aids from the table so that nobody sees them, but instead of putting them in, he just shoves them in his pocket. 

The three Garrison kids just...stay, and Keith has spent so long alone that he's not sure how to make them leave, other than to be aggressively angry and he's not sure he has the energy for that. He decides to just ignore them and sit outside while he wakes for Shiro to wake up.  

 

* * *

 

Lance is standing in a shack in the middle of the desert next to his idol (who is unconscious, but still), and all he can think about is how bizarre it is that  _Keith_ is here. He doesn't seem to remember Lance, which is kind of weird, but everything about Keith seems kind of weird. And Lance honestly doesn't mind.  

"Is it strange that he doesn't remember me?" Lance whispers. Hunk and Pidge look up at him impassively, and both shrug in unison. It's creepy.  

"He was always weird," Hunk replies, keeping an eye on the door. "Remember that time he threatened to stab Garret?" Lance nods. 

Back at the Garrison, Keith had been a combination of Lance's crush and his rival. One the first day, everyone else had showed up to class in their regulation uniforms with their textbooks and binders – Lance included – and Keith had fucking  _meandered_ into class twenty minutes late wearing combat boots and jeans and some kind of badass leather motorcycle jacket. He had slumped down next to Lance, kicked his feet up onto the desk and downed an entire cup of coffee in less than five seconds.  

Lance was smitten, and had thought Keith was amazing for about two weeks, even though Keith never said a word to him during that time. He didn't talk to anyone, actually, and even ignored the teacher when she called on him during class.  

Then they started flight simulations and Keith kicked Lance's  _ass_ at literally everything. Without even trying. And on top of it, he was a dick about it – Lance tried to compliment him, and Keith had completely ignored him and strutted out of the class. After that it was a no holds barred rivalry, as far as Lance was concerned.  

One day, Keith had just disappeared. Garret, who was literally the biggest jerk at the academy – and who Lance had seen harassing Keith on a few occasions – showed up to class with two black eyes, and nobody heard from Keith again. Until now.  

Lance is contemplating going outside to try and talk to Keith, when Shiro starts to stir.  

 

* * *

 

The Garrison kids aren't completely useless after all, and they all end up doing some kind of weird-ass fieldtrip to the middle of nowhere to find a robotic lion. Keith has tried to commit their names to memory – Pidge, Hunk, Lance – because he knows he's shit at that kind of thing. Being an asshole comes a lot easier to him than  _not_ being an asshole.   

"Voltron is a robot!" Hunk shouts after they share some kind of crazy psychic mind-meld. His voice is so loud that Keith doesn't even need to read his lips. "Voltron is a huge,  _huge,_ awesome robot!" Keith feels uneasiness crawling up his back, and he tries not to let it show. It's not the supernatural aspect that scares him – he's just hitting his socializing quota for...well, the year, really.  

Now that he's had time to observe these three, he does remember them. Well, he remembers Lance, anyway. Maybe just his eyes. And his laugh. Keith's brain tends to do this thing where he just...deletes memories that aren't useful, and mooning over someone who will just fuck him over – like everyone does – is decidedly  _not_ useful.  

He's so lost in thought that he doesn’t realize that they are now inside the lion, and Lance is flying it, and he's doing these fucking barrel rolls and somersaults, and Keith screams at him, "YOU. ARE. THE. WORST. PILOT. EVER." But he doesn't really mean it because this  _is_ kind of awesome. And Lance looks so happy and  _alive_  at the helm, with his wide smile and laugh, and Keith's brain slams the brakes on  _that_ train of thought ASAfuckingP.  

Which turns out to be a good thing, because then they're in space, and there's an alien ship and a wormhole and a castle and a space princess, and Keith's brain needs to spend all of its energy processing what exactly is happening and NOT focusing on things like, say, a cute boy's laugh. And considering that the cute boy is flirting with the space princess, it's probably for the best.  

 

* * *

 

They are in  _space_. And not just, like, the moon, but actual outer space on the other side of the galaxy, running away from alien battle cruisers. And Lance is flying a robot lion! He's feeling so electric and full of energy, and when Keith leans forward and casually rests his hand on Lance's shoulder, a jolt runs through his body.  

He feels a tugging, suddenly. It's right near his sternum, and it's so familiar and warm, and all he wants to do is give into the feeling. He does, and they end up on this planet with a crazy-ass space castle, which happens to house a ten-thousand-year-old space princess who is  _gorgeous_.  

"I'm Lance," he says smoothly, catching her as she falls from the strange glass pod. "And you're right here in my arms." He's pretty impressed with his pickup line, but he can see from the corner of his eye that Keith is not. He's actually looking almost...murderous. To be fair, his face looks like that most of the time anyway.  

It turns out the princess isn't interested, but Lance doesn't take it to heart. He never does. It's easy to flirt, to act confident and cool and attractive, but it never goes anywhere. If people get too close, they break through the fake and find out underneath that Lance is just a nervous mess of self-doubt and anxiety. Hence the never trying to get anywhere with Keith. 

They don't have much time to relax, because Allura – the princess – tells them that another alien battleship is headed for them.  

"I bet it's Keith's fault," Lance says, then regrets his words. This is always his first line of defense – sarcasm and just being an idiot in general, and he doesn't  _want_ to be like that around Keith, who is always so cool and collected.  

Keith just snarks right back at him, and then gives Lance a look that requires him to raise one of his eyebrows terrifyingly high under his ridiculous hair. Lance wants to either slap or kiss the expression off his face, but Shiro intervenes before he can do anything stupid.  

Then they're off, him back in the blue lion and feeling such a sense of peace and connectedness that he forgets all about Keith anyway. 

 

* * *

 

It turns out that they're paladins. All five of them, even Keith, who knows exactly zero things about teamwork and bonding and all the nonsense that Allura insists is important for them to form Voltron. Keith figures he already did his work, flinging himself out into space to earn Red's respect, but it turns out that Allura and Coran have a million different ideas on how to make them "bond as a team".  

So far, he has been shot at, blown up, attacked by drones, shocked by an invisible wall (Lance's fault), and crashed Red headfirst into the ground (which was kind of his fault for egging Lance on, although he'll never admit it). Now they're sitting in a circle, cross-legged, trying to meditate their way to forming a giant robot.  

"You must focus on just one thing: Voltron," Coran says over the intercom. Only to Keith it sounds like he says, "Young soup is on justifying voles on," until his brain rearranges the sounds. Even with the hearing aids, this is what it's always like. It's not that he  _can't_ hear things, it's just that they're kind of muffled and jumbled and it takes him a lot longer than someone who  _can_ hear well to figure out what's being said. And by the time he responds, people think he's an idiot. 

He gets that icy feeling again, that knowledge that  _he_ shouldn't be here,  _he's_ not a paladin and he certainly can't be part of a team like this if he can't even fucking hear the instructions. 

Everyone else is closing their eyes so Keith follows suit and the first thing that pops into his head is his shack in the desert. There's a feeling of "home" attached to it that he doesn't quite understand, although he supposes if he were to call anything he'd lived in so far "home", that would be it. Group homes and foster families were never particularly welcoming for a belligerent kid who didn't talk.  

He can sort of hear Coran speaking again, but Keith just ignores it and breathes deeply, opening his eyes to see that the other paladins are picturing their lions – except Pidge, who appears to be stuck on something else. Keith's good at suppressing things, so he just pushes everything except Red to the back of his mind.   

It's unsurprisingly unsuccessful.  

They end up bonding over a food fight, of all things, and Keith even finds himself smiling as they fling the goo at Allura and Coran. Forming Voltron is pretty cool, and Keith's even able to follow the conversation over the headset, since the sound goes directly into his ears and there's no background noise to mess it up. 

 

* * *

 

Lance still can't believe that he's a  _paladin,_ it sounds like some crazy Dungeons and Dragons thing that his sister would love to hear about. Thinking about his sister pains him a little, but he's got so much else to focus on. So far today he's been shot at, blown up, attacked by drones, shocked by an invisible wall (Keith's fault), and crashed Blue headfirst into the ground (which was kind of his fault for egging Keith on, although he'll never admit it).  

Even though they were able to form Voltron in the end, he's feeling frustrated with himself. The training deck should have been so much simpler, but he'd been so damn distracted. Being back-to-back with Keith felt...well, he's not sure how to describe it. Lance had  _wanted_ to protect him,  _wanted_ to do it right and keep the team safe, but he'd screwed up. Again. Like he always did.  

Then they'd tried to do the invisible maze and Keith was right, he  _hadn't_ been listening, but instead of owning up, he'd just blamed Keith instead. And then ran him into a wall on purpose because he was being petty. What the hell is wrong with him?  

Maybe he isn't cut out to do this. Sure, flying Blue feels so... _right_ , and forming Voltron was  _so_ cool. And Hunk was right, it had felt like they were all brothers for that moment, like they really were a team. But did they really need Lance? Maybe they'd be better off without him. They could always find someone more mature and responsible to be the blue paladin. 

He sighs, burying his face in his pillow and groaning. Then he stands up and pulls on a hoodie. Maybe a walk through the castle will help quiet his brain.  

 

* * *

 

Keith can't sleep. Everything in his brain is going six million miles a minute, and even though he told Lance he'd crash immediately, he just...can't. He feels dizzy, almost, when he thinks about the past few days. How could he have predicted that finding Shiro would lead to leaving Earth on an intergalactic journey to become some sort of space warrior?  

After an hour of tossing and turning, he decides to wander the castle instead. It's enormous, and after a while Keith finds himself in an observatory of sorts – a giant window where all he can see is stars. It reminds him of the desert, and he slumps down on the floor and takes in the breathtaking sight. He's so entranced that when a hand lands on his shoulder, he jumps.  

"...rry!" He looks up to see Lance standing behind him, looking apologetic. "I w.. c...ng y... .ut I g..ss..." The rest of the sentence is lost to Keith because Lance looks away and he can't see his face.  _Fuck_. He left his hearing aids in his room because what are the odds of running into someone else in a giant-ass castle in the middle of the night?  

Lance looks down at him expectantly, and Keith feels panic and shame welling up inside him. His chest is tight and his cheeks are hot, but he manages to gesture at the floor next to him.  _Fuck_ , he thinks, trying to keep his hands from trembling.  _What have I gotten myself into?_   

 

* * *

 

"So, what've you been doing for the past year and a half?" Lance asks, dropping down to the floor. Keith scoots away from him a little until he's facing Lance instead of sitting next to him. "I mean, besides building a sweet hoverbike." He expects Keith to laugh –  _hopes_ Keith will laugh – but instead the other boy just looks at him with a confused expression on his face.  

"I...couldn't sleep?" Keith's voice is hesitant, and Lance frowns.  He sees Keith's shoulders slump a bit, so he tries to rearrange his face into a neutral expression.  

"Me either," he says, leaning back on his arms and looking at the stars. "This view is amazing, hey?" He can see out of the corner of his eye that Keith isn't looking at the view, he's staring intently at Lance's face. He has his knees tucked up under his chin and he looks so  _small,_ and kind of sad. "You okay, man?"  

"I gotta...go," Keith says suddenly, pushing himself to his feet and trying to shove his hands into his pockets until he realizes that he doesn’t have any. He crosses his arms instead. "I just...yeah. Bye." And then he turns on his heel and books it out of the room like he's worried Lance will follow him.  

Lance sighs, turning back to look at the stars. He's been hoping that the banter they have going is just that – friendly banter – but maybe Keith really doesn't like him after all. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance wants to be liked, Keith wants a hug.

"Again."  

Keith snarls – actually _snarls,_ baring his teeth – before charging towards Shiro, bayard -blade drawn. Shiro sidesteps him neatly, then blocks his next attack with his Galra hand. Keith drops lower, sweeps at his legs, but then tumbles forward when he's hit in the back _again_.  

"Young eat a fate tension," Shiro says from above him, which is ridiculous. Keith frowns, then sighs. _You need to pay attention._ He picks himself up off the floor, rolling his shoulders and turning to glare at the training droid that shot him. Lance is standing next to it, eyebrows furrowed in irritation.  

"You're supposed to be watching my back, asshole," Keith grumbles, fighting against the lump in his throat. Lance hasn't really talked to him since the observatory a week ago, and Keith is certain that Lance now thinks he's an idiot.  

"I yelled at you to move!" Lance insists, throwing his hands up in the air. Keith's face flushes hot, and he tries to swallow down the frustration and shame that are pushing tears to his eyes. What's he supposed to say? _I didn't hear you? I can't hear you?_ They would make him leave, Keith knows it. And even though he doesn't deserve this camaraderie, he _wants_ it, so badly. Being alone was fine when he didn't know any better. Now? He's not sure he'd be able to handle it.  

At least they can form Voltron. Keith's still uncertain about his place in all this, but when he slips into Red's seat, he always feels this...connection with her. Not with words (which is great), but _feelings_ and _pictures_. The best part is that she somehow _knows_ that something is wrong with him, and makes things easier. There's a set of lights around the cabin that she'll flash to show where other ships are – green for friendly, red for not. There's even this speech-to-text function that somehow got enabled, so the words pop up right on the inside of his helmet.  

So, flying is great. This – not so much. 

"Again," Shiro says, motioning for Keith to move back into his original position. He sighs, avoiding everyone's disappointed gaze, and starts over. 

 

* * *

 

 

Lance tugs off his helmet as he stumbles out of Blue, stretching and groaning at his stiff muscles. Between the early morning runs through the castle, simulations on the training deck, and the exercises with their lions, Lance has never been so tired. This past week has been nuts. Shiro really doesn't do anything half-assed.  

Speaking of asses, what the hell is Keith's problem? He's been so damn...evasive over the last week. And the training deck this morning had been the worst yet. Every time Lance – or anyone, for that matter – called out to him for an assist, or to warn him about something, he'd completely ignored them. Eventually he'd stormed out, grumbling about working better alone.  

Sighing, Lance runs a hand through his hair. Why can't he let this go? Why can't he just let Keith be a jerk, and not let it bother him? He taps his fingers against his leg anxiously. It has something to do with the expression on Keith's face when he'd called Lance an asshole. Lance swears there were tears in his eyes.   

 _I'm not giving up on hi-_ _this yet,_ Lance thinks, joining the team as they head to the kitchen. Keith actually seems to be in a decent mood right now – he always is, after they fly. Now that Lance thinks about it, Keith is one hundred times nicer when they're in the air.  

"Hey, I did something cool and you can't handle it," Lance teases, and Keith smirks at him, which really shouldn't make his stomach feel this way. It's nice to see something other than irritation on Keith's face. 

"Your kick ruined our balance," Keith argues, but Lance can hear the playful edge to his words. "We fell." He mimes the action with his hands, and Lance rolls his eyes, turning to nudge Hunk.  

"That falling part was Hunk's fault," he grins, dropping down at the table. He's thrilled that Keith sits next to him, even when Hunk gets indignant puts Lance in a headlock. 

"Save your energy for fighting Zarkon," Shiro chastises, and all three boys roll their eyes simultaneously. 

 

* * *

 

 

The Arusians are irritating as hell. Keith's found that he has a harder time hearing higher pitches, and these alien's voices are so high that he barely understands them at all. It makes him frustrated and anxious, and Allura keeps giving him these _looks_ like she knows he's going to snap and punch something soon.  

Hunk nudges him and says something quietly, and when Keith turns to look at him, all he can see on the other boy's face is pity.  

"I'm fine," he grumbles, hoping that the question was _are you_ _okay_ _,_ which is a safe bet because it's what _everyone_ keeps asking him. He grumbles and turns to leave, but one of the Arusians jumps on him and wraps its arms around him.  

Keith is about to shove it off when he feels a warmth in his chest that radiates outwards into his toes and fingertips. It's like a punch to the stomach, and he even stumbles back from the intensity of the emotion. He gasps, tears immediately springing to his eyes, and before he can stop himself, he's got his arms wrapped around the stupid alien.  

"I don't...usually hug strangers," he murmurs, taking a shaky breath. "Man, you are cuddly." The alien detaches itself and says something to Keith but he ignores it, focusing on the tingling feeling in his palms. Then he looks around wildly and runs to the outskirts of the village.  

Once he's far enough away that nobody can see him, he drops to his hands and knees and lets the tears fall, curling himself into a ball and breathing shakily. Other than friendly pats on the shoulder from Shiro, Keith lets people touch him as little as possible. There are reasons, _good_ reasons, none of which he is willing to share, _ever_.   

What he didn't realize is how much he... _wants_ someone to touch him again. Gently, like that stupid alien's hug. Most of the touch in his life has been painful or scary or _wrong_ , and it terrifies him that his body is responding this way. His mind immediately drifts to Lance, who has zero boundaries and touches Keith – and the other paladins – a lot. He thinks of the soft way that Lance touches his shoulder, or takes his hand to help him up, or nudges their thighs together when they sit too close. It's terrifying. And he wants it. 

Then there's a giant alien ship to take care of, so he dries his tears and gets to his lion and helps his team kick some ass. 

 

* * *

 

 

Lance feels like shit. He's getting that familiar dark sensation, the tingling up the back of his neck that sends his brain into this crazy spiral of self-doubt. Plus, he misses his mom. He hasn't said anything, even to Hunk who is his best friend and would understand one hundred percent, and who probably misses his mom too. 

It's just, when he gets like this, he can't stop moving. Everything seems too bright, too loud, too much, and the only way to tolerate it is to always be _going_. And talking. Which he's been told is annoying as hell, so he tries to keep it inside. He's taken to tapping out messages in Morse code on his thigh to see if anyone picks up on it. Nobody has, so far.   

On the plus side, being a paladin keeps Lance occupied, especially when they end up fighting some sort of robot beast from hell. It all works out in the end, and Keith even gets to make a cool sword with Voltron, but at the end of the day, Lance still feels sad and misses his family.  

It doesn’t get unbearable until the party with the Arusians. He's trying to joke around with Keith – Lance finds that overcompensating for the opposite emotion that he's feeling generally makes it less shitty – and he's perplexed by Keith's inability to figure out the rules of a team cheer.  

"Keith! The cheer includes the instructions! I say 'Vol' and you say..." He waits expectantly and notices that Keith is doing that thing again where he frowns and stares at Lance's lips when he talks. Lance is starting to think that Keith does not hate him, and in fact might have a thing for him.  

"Uh...Vol-tron?" Keith runs a hand through his hair and Lance takes a moment to appreciate how adorable he is. He looks flustered, and Lance nudges him with his elbow.  

"We'll work on it," he teases, but Keith isn't looking at him and doesn't seem to be listening anymore. Lance frowns. _Why does he always space out like that?_ He shrugs, then takes a swig of whatever Coran just gave him, immediately regretting it. "Coran, what the hell is this?"  

 

* * *

 

 

Keith is feeling uncertain, but not uncomfortable. Lance just rested his hand on Keith's shoulder for what felt like forever, and Keith felt that same flood of affection that he did with the Arusian. His brain and body are both screaming very different things at him, and he's trying to ignore both of them.  

"...sword thing was pretty cool!" Keith manages to catch the end of Hunk's statement, and is relieved that he doesn't have to pretend he knows what they're talking about. "How'd you know how to do that?" Keith shrugs, feeling almost shy at the attention from the two other paladins.  

"Red just kinda...told me," he replies, and Hunk grins at him.  

"That's super cool, man." He wraps an arm around Keith's shoulder and Keith tries desperately not to tense up. Hunk and Lance keep talking, but the words are drowned out by the sound of his breathing echoing in his ears.  

 _They're going to abandon you_ . He clenches his teeth and tries to ignore the voice. _They're going to leave. Or hurt you. Remember what happened last time you thought you could trust someone?_ He subconsciously runs his fingers over his jacket where it rubs at the thick scar on his forearm. His jaw hurts and it's not just from the stress. 

"I'm gonna...go..." He mumbles, stumbling out from under Hunk's arm. He knows they're looking at him strangely, and he manages a weak smile. "Sorry." Then he beelines it for the door and breaks into a run, not stopping until he finds an alcove where he can curl up and be alone. 

 

* * *

 

 

The party keeps going and going, and eventually it's just too much for Lance. Talking about his family just makes it worse, and eventually he finds himself on the bridge of the castle, wiping away tears with the back of his hand. He'd barely made it to the bridge when he'd started to cry – big, gasping sobs that felt like something was being ripped from his chest.  

Lance misses home so badly it's a physical ache. He misses his parents, his brothers and sisters, his grandparents, even the damn cat. They probably think he's dead, and that's the worst part of all.  

"You okay?" His head snaps up to see Keith standing there, looking awkward and uncomfortable. Lance feels his face flush red, and he buries it in his arms.  

"I just...miss home." He takes a shuddering breath, but Keith doesn't say anything, just sits down on the floor across from Lance and gazes out at the stars with him. Lance glances over at him, wondering if he'll run away again. "Y'know, I don’t actually hate your hair. It looks good on you." As soon as the words leave his mouth he feels like an idiot. His cheeks flush and he groans, turning his head away again. 

"What?" Keith is looking at him now, puzzled, and Lance shakes his head, mortified. "I...missed...what you said." He sounds embarrassed, and his cheeks are pink.  

 _Is he for real?_ Lance wonders, refusing to look at Keith. _Or is he just trying to get me to say it again?_  

"Nothing," he mutters, and he hears Keith sigh in irritation. He pushes himself to his feet and stands there for a moment, shifting his weight from toe to toe.  

"Okay. I'm gonna go." Then he turns on his heel and practically _runs_ out of the room.  

 _Fuck,_ think Lance. _What am I doing wrong?_  

Coran comes in later and tries to cheer Lance up, but he just can't shake this feeling of – oh, _shit_. That's not Rover, and it's going to explode.  

"Coran, look out!" Before he can think, Lance launches himself at Coran, and then screams in pain as the blast from the bomb drone sends pain searing up his back and into his chest. He tries to breathe, but everything hurts, _so_ badly, and then it all fades to black.

  

* * *

 

 

Seeing Lance injured had caused some sort of crazy primal response in Keith that had made him either want to pull the other boy into his arms, or run very, very far away. He went with running, which he is now regretting as him and Allura dash back to the castle.  

"We're too late," Keith groans, smashing his fist against the particle barrier. "No!" _Fuck, fuck, fuck,_ he thinks, feeling his breathing speed up and his jaw clench. He can't punch or stab his way through this. Lance is in there, and he's hurt, and while Keith trusts Shiro with his own life, never mind somebody else's, there's this lingering feeling of tension and doubt humming through his bones.  

"Keith, can you hear me?"  

"Pidge!" Keith's chest loosens a tiny bit. If anyone can get them out of this clusterfuck, it's Pidge. "Where are you?"  

Waiting for Pidge to let them in is painful, and Keith can feel the impatience crawling like ants under his skin as he paces back and forth. Allura tries to comfort him, but he just shakes his head at her and pushes her hand away.  

It takes forever – at least it feels that way – but Pidge finally gets the barrier down and Keith immediately charges in, bayard at the ready. Everything is chaotic and Shiro's hurt and Lance is still unconscious and Pidge is fighting this massive Galra. Keith feels frozen as he realizes that he wants to protect his...friends. Fami – no. He doesn't have a family.  

What he does have is a sword, and a strong desire to stab someone with it. There's a sharp sound and he can see Lance sitting up, rifle in hand, aiming at Sendak before he passes out again. Keith snarls and throws himself at the Galra, seeing Allura moving toward the computer out the corner of his eye.  

Keith fights Sendak viciously, the adrenaline from seeing Lance and Shiro injured powering his swings. He vaguely hears Allura shout something, and his eyes flick to the center of the bridge, realizing what she's about to do. He plants his foot in the center of Sendak's chest and pushes, _hard_.  

He breathes heavily for a second, dropping his hands to his knees. His bayard retracts and he turns to see Pidge helping Shiro.  

"Lance!" Keith kneels down next to the sandy-haired boy, who seems to have regained consciousness again, if only barely. "Are you okay?" Keith grabs his hand and pulls him into a sitting position. Lance's eyes are wide and slightly unfocused, and Keith realizes then that they aren't both blue – one is light like the sky, and the other is a turquoise color, like the deeper places in the ocean. And he has freckles. Since when does Lance have freckles?  

"We did it," Lance mumbles, gazing at Keith's face and smiling at him in this stupid way that makes Keith's heart do stupid things. "We _are_ a good team." Before he can stop himself, Keith is smiling back and squeezing Lance's hand. Their knees are touching and his other arm is wrapped around Lance's shoulders, and this is the most they've ever touched. It's terrifying. It's exhilarating.  

"Hey. Lance?" Keith frowns because Lance's pupils are two different sizes and he's going pale and his breathing is too shallow. Keith pulls him tighter, and Lance drops his head to rest against Keith's chest. 

"...don' feel s'good," Lance mumbles, and Keith moves his hand from Lance's shoulder to the back of his head as he goes limp again. Shiro's stumbling to his feet now, and Keith looks up at him.  

"I'll get him to a healing pod," Shiro says, and as he bends down to take Keith from Lance's arms, Keith whispers softly into Lance's hair.  

"You'll be okay."  


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance and Keith both have feelings, and neither knows how to handle them.

_"Nope. Don't remember, didn't happen."_  

The words echo in Keith's head as he closes the door to his room. His body is exhausted from the fight on the Balmera, but the rest of him is wide awake. Slumping down on the edge of his bed, he drops his head in his hands. His chest is tight and he feels like crying again. What is  _wrong_ with him? His hands are shaking and he curls up with his head on his knees.  

What was he expecting, anyway? They're not even friends, never mind anything...else. And does he even want that, anyway? Obviously Lance is aggressively heterosexual, if his behavior with that stupid alien woman is anything to go by. 

 _"Nope. Don't remember, didn't happen."_  

In Lance’s defense, Keith didn't really  _do_  much in the whole Sendak fiasco. Pidge was incredible and basically saved all their asses, and Keith feels bad for yelling at her but is still uncertain about apologizing.  

He's uncertain about everything. Why can’t he  _trust_ anyone? Why is he so goddamn  _broken_? 

A memory starts to surface in his mind, bleeding out to the edges of his senses until he can almost feel the flashback in his skin. 

 _Keith is five, all scraped knees and sticky fingers, with a mess of black curls that his mother loves to comb. She's sad today – he can feel it, and he buries his face into her stomach. Usually she hugs him back, but today she pries him away, holding him at arm's length and gazing at him sadly. Her eyes are dark. He can't remember if she says something; if she promises to come back or if she says she's leaving forever, but someone grabs him around the waist and she turns away and then she's gone._  

 _He cries for a whole week after that, so he barely notices when his papa walks out and doesn't come back. Three days later, he's woken up by a kind-looking man in a blue hat and uniform._  

 _"What's your name, son?" The man asks gently, and Keith scrambles away from him, remembering mama's warning not to talk to strangers. Then he realizes the man is a police officer, like Chase the Transformer, and he's allowed to talk to the police._  

 _"Keith," he says softly. His stomach hurts and his clothes are dirty and he's clutching his stuffed kitty tightly. "I'm five."_  

 _"Keith, my name is Daryl." The police officer sits down on the ground next to him. "Are you hungry?" Keith nods warily, but when Daryl pulls a granola bar from his pocket and offers it to him, he grabs it greedily. "This is Melissa," Daryl says,_ _motioning to a young woman, also dressed in a_ _police uniform_ _,_ _who crouches down next to them."We're gonna take you somewhere safe, okay?"_  

 _Keith hesitates, then nods and lets Daryl pick him up. Melissa is crying and Keith doesn't understand why._ _They think they’re helping, but where they take him isn’t safe. Keith doesn’t ever truly feel safe again._  

Keith growls, running his fingers through his hair and standing up. He needs to go punch something. 

 

* * *

 

Lance feels like an asshole. Actually, Lance  _is_ an asshole, and he can’t believe he’s admitting it, even to himself. He’s standing outside Keith’s room, hand hovering hesitantly over the door, and he feels like he might be sick. What is he even doing? 

“Keith?” He raps lightly, sound echoing through the dark hallway. It’s late – at least Lance thinks it is, it’s hard to tell in a place with no sunlight – and Keith’s probably asleep. Lance should be asleep too - it's been a long and fucked-up and exhausting day – but every time he closes his eyes, all he can see is the hurt expression on Keith’s face when Lance blew him off this morning.  

He  _does_ remember. Of course he remembers. Keith’s arm wrapped around him, hand resting on the back of Lance’s neck, violet eyes wide with concern. It was like a switch had flipped and suddenly Lance had realized exactly how much he cared about this ridiculous boy. Everything had hurt and the world had been blurry but for some stupid reason all Lance had been able to think about was Keith’s lips. Stupid. Stupid, stupid,  _stupid_.  

“Keith? Buddy?” He knocks again, and when he gets no answer he feels a mix of relief and disappointment settle in his chest. He leans his forehead against the cool metal, then breathes deeply.  

Well, he’s not going to be able to get back to sleep now. Lance rubs his hands over his face, then pushes off the door and stalks down the hall, slippers muffling his steps. He wanders for over an hour, letting himself get lost in the passageways of both the castle and his mind. His brain is just a mess of homesickness, insecurity, and these… _feelings_ for Keith. His crush at the Garrison was one thing – that was just Lance admiring Keith’s piloting skills and his great ass. But  _this_ …  

Lance turns a corner and suddenly sees Keith, and his brain kinda short-circuits for a minute. Keith is dressed in a pair of  _exceptionally_  tight black pants and a dark hoodie, and he seems to be walking away from Lance with a purpose.  

"Hey, Keith my man!" Lance calls out, but Keith doesn't respond. "Keith?" He tries again, but Keith either doesn't hear Lance or is ignoring him. He places his palm on the wall and slips into what Lance realizes is the training deck.  

Lance stands outside the door for a moment, considering following Keith inside to apologize. Instead, he decides to find his way up to the control-room-slash-observation deck. He knows that the window here is two-way, so he situates himself where he can stay hidden but also watch Keith.  

Lance watches Keith kick off his boots, then pull some sort of headphones from his ears, tucking them into his pocket. That must have been why he didn't respond when Lance called him. Keith shrugs off his sweater, then takes a deep breath and strides to the middle of the room, barefoot and clad in a tight-fitting, sleeveless shirt. Lance certainly isn't complaining about the view, but why doesn't Keith have a weapon? 

As Keith crouches down and presses his palm to the ground, an incredibly loud voice announces, "Begin hand-to-hand combat simulation. Level One." Lance winces at the volume, glad that they are on the opposite side of the castle as the sleeping quarters. It doesn’t seem to bother Keith, though, and when the training droid drops down in front of him, his eyes immediately snap open and he leaps into action.  

 _Who the hell is this and where the_ _quizna_ _k_ _is Keith?_ Lance thinks, blinking hard as he watches his teammate fight. The difference between this performance and their group training is unbelievable. Keith's actions are smooth and fluid, and he predicts the droid's movements with incredible accuracy. It's clear that he's taken some sort of martial arts training, since his punches and kicks land sharp and precise. Droid number one is taken down in less than twenty seconds.  

Lance leans forward as Keith immediately drops back down into a crouch, palms spread on the floor. The voice – still incredibly loud, is the volume control broken? – announces that level two is about to start, and Keith once again stays in that position until the apertures open and the droids appear. What is he  _doing?_  

 

* * *

 

“Begin level two.” Keith feels the sound more than he hears it – deep vibrations running up his arms. He keeps his eyes closed, waiting for the familiar rumble of the droids hitting the floor. They appear randomly around the room, but with his palms spread on the floor, he can feel almost exactly where they fall.  

He snaps his eyes open, lunging at the one in front of him before it has time to attack. He breathes through the kicks and punches, a familiar voice in his head. Leo, his karate instructor from when Keith was ten and forced into an extracurricular activity to help “tame his aggressive tendencies”.  

 _Exhale when you strike. Keep your elbows in. Plant your feet. Follow through with your movements. Keep your guard up. Protect your face._  

This had been before he lost most of his hearing, so the “feet planting” bit wasn’t for the vibrations so much as for balance, but now it works for both. Keith’s bare feet pick up the  _thonk_ _,_ _thonk_ _,_ _thonk_  of the second droid racing at him, and he times a kick just right so that the first droid takes a knee to the side and slams into its buddy.  

Gods, this is so much  _easier_. He doesn’t have to worry about anyone else here, or try to focus on four other people, or worry about not hearing the instructions. He  _will_ have to remember to turn down the volume controls, though.  

Keith makes it to level five before he catches a blur of color up in the observation deck. He drives an elbow into the throat of the last droid and drops it to the ground, then looks up and freezes. Lance is standing there, looking sheepish and waving down at Keith.  

Keith growls and stalks over to his sweater, pulling his hearing aids out of the pocket and slipping them on before Lance can make it down. They're such cheap pieces of shit – his foster parents wouldn't pay for anything fancier – and he hasn't had them adjusted in a really long time. He has a sinking feeling that the batteries are dying, and he’s not sure what to do about it because he’s pretty sure there’s no “space audiologist” around here.  

“…was incredible!” Lance bounces up to him and grabs his shoulders, and Keith pulls himself away with more force than he intends. He sees the crestfallen look on Lance’s face and sighs, trying to rearrange his features into a smile. “Where the heck did you learn to fight like that?”  

“Um…karate lessons,” Keith replies, turning away for a moment and fiddling with the controls on the wall until the volume is back to normal. He turns back to Lance, who is beaming at him again. “Shiro and I used to spar sometimes. It's just...easier by myself.”  

“That was seriously so cool,” Lance says, waving his hands enthusiastically as he talks. “You were all like – Pow! – and then they were like – whaaaa!, and then you broke that droid's neck and kicked the other one and…” he trails off, looking sheepish. He drops his hands into the pockets of his dressing gown, then toes the floor. “I’m sorry.”  

“Um.” Keith blinks at the unexpected change of pace, uncertain what Lance is apologizing for. “H…how long were you watching?” Lance’s face flushes red.  

“From the…beginning?” Lance says hesitantly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I didn’t mean to…well, yeah I did, but I  _did_ try to talk to you. But you had those headphones in so your music must’ve been too loud. So then, yeah, I guess I was kinda creepy. Sorry.”  

 _Headphones?_ Keith raises a hand to his ear self-consciously, ensuring that his hair is covering his hearing aids. Lance likes to make fun of his “mullet”, but what he doesn’t know is that Keith grew it this long to keep this part of him a secret.  

“Uh, yeah, sorry,” Keith mumbles. "I...didn't hear you." It's strange to say that without feeling ashamed, but Lance shrugs amiably.  

"No big." He suddenly looks embarrassed again. "Look, I'm sorry about what I said this morning, I was being a dick. You saved my ass and I was a jerk about it, and I have this thing where I get weird about stuff and then act like an idiot 'cause it's easier than having, y'know, feelings, and so I just wanted to say that. So...sorry."  

Keith frowns at him. He certainly hadn't been expecting  _that_ , and isn't sure how to handle it. 

"Thank...you?" He tries, and Lance smiles at him, so it must have been the right thing to say.  

"Wanna go get cookies?"  

"Cookies?"  

"Yeah, Hunk made some sort of space cookies and apparently they taste like cheesecake." Lance reaches out to grab Keith's sleeve, but Keith jerks away on instinct, putting a safe distance between them.  _Fuck, get it together_ _,_ he thinks, feeling his face redden. He doesn't know what expression Lance is wearing, but he desperately wants to make him smile again.  

"Yeah, let's get cookies." And this time  _he_ reaches out for Lance's arm, and it's okay this way because he's in control and nobody can hurt him.  

 

* * *

 

Lance realizes now that sharing three dozen cheesecake-flavored space cookies with Keith at ridiculously-early-o'clock was a terrible idea – but he would definitely do it again. They're sitting across from each other at the breakfast table, looking nauseous but also giving each other secret grins. Hunk sits down next to Lance with his bowl of food goo and glares at both of them.  

"I hope you're happy," he mutters.  

"They were...so damn good," Keith whispers apologetically, slumping forward onto the table, and Hunk sighs, shaking his head.  

"You're both hopeless."  

Lance is pretty sure that Keith  _giggles_  at that, which is ridiculous because Keith does not  _giggle_. But who knows, maybe sleep deprivation makes him silly? It's certainly making Lance feel spacey and out of it, like everything around him has an edge of unreality to it. 

It turns out that Keith giggling isn't anywhere near the weirdest part of the day.  

"...twenty-nine, twenty-eight, twenty-seven..." Lance normally finds the computer's voice oddly soothing, but right now it's striking terror right into the center of his chest. The alarm is so loud he can barely think, and he presses himself as close to the inner door of the airlock as possible, slamming his fist against the window.  

"Guys! Help!" He knows that screaming is futile, that nobody will hear him through the glass, but what else is he supposed to do? He bangs it with his fists, the lump of terror in his chest tightening until he almost feels like he can't scream at all.  

And then he sees Keith. He's being chased down the hallway by a droid (are those even supposed to leave the training deck?), and is slowly being backed towards the airlock.  

"...twelve, eleven, ten..."  

"Shut UP!" Lance pushes the fear aside and screams, flailing inefficiently against the door. "Help! Help! Keith! Help!" His throat is tight and his hands are getting sore from banging the glass, but he  _has_ to get Keith to see him. "I need help!"  

Keith cries out in pain as the training droid comes down heavily on him, sword sliding against Keith's bayard and glancing off his knuckles. He slams back into the airlock doors and Lance's flailing must finally catch his attention, because he looks up at him, terrified.  

"...six, five..."  

"Grraaagh!" Keith throws himself out of the way of the droid's sword, then dashes toward the airlock controls, only to be blocked by the robot again. Lance presses his palms against the glass, feeling the panic overtake him completely.  

"Doors opening."  

 

* * *

 

"Get...out...of my... _way_!" Keith snarls and hurls himself at the droid, sliding alongside it and reaching desperately for the airlock controls with his bayard. The door slides open and the droid flies out, and there's Lance, clutching desperately to the frame, tears streaking his cheeks. "Grab my hand!"  

He yanks Lance forward until the taller boy collapses on top of him, and Keith slams his palm over the door controls.  

"Lance, are you okay?" He runs his hands up Lance's trembling arms, feeling the adrenaline bursting in tiny explosions throughout his body. There's no response, and Lance won't look at him. "Are you hurt?" Keith is leaning against the wall and Lance is basically in his lap, but the awkwardness of the situation seems irrelevant to the near-death experience they both just had.  

"…'m okay," Lance whispers, then collapses forward, face on Keith's chest. "You?" Keith breathes a sigh of relief, then wraps his arm around Lance's shoulders, dropping his head back against the wall. He's got a few scrapes, and his hand is bleeding, but not enough to be a serious issue.  

"Fine," he gasps, chest still rising and falling rapidly. "What...is going on?" He runs a hand through his hair. He squirms to sit up a bit, but when Lance tries to move away, Keith grabs his wrist to keep him resting between his legs.  

"Castle is trying to kill us," Lance pants miserably, and before Keith knows what's happening, Lance has turned their palms and twisted their fingers until they are...holding hands. Keith blinks, paying careful attention to the warmth of Lance's palm, the way their thumbs are pressed together, the tingling sensation running up his arm. "Gods...I, ugh, that...was the scariest..."  

"I'm glad you're okay," Keith interrupts suddenly, then squeezes his eyes shut, realizing how colossally  _stupid_ he sounds. But they're holding hands, and his heart is still going a million miles a minute, and seeing the terror on Lance's face just about killed him.  

"You too," Lance says softly, leaning forward a bit until their faces are uncomfortably close. Or comfortably close, if you're...are they? "Thanks for saving my ass." Lance's forehead bumps against Keith's, and he's so close that he can see every freckle that dusts Lance's face.  

"Your eyes," Keith says dumbly, feeling his chest tighten. Lance hums. "They're different colors." There's a large freckle just below the curve of Lance's bottom lip, and Keith suddenly  _needs_  to know what it feels like under his tongue.  

"I don't wanna die," Lance breathes, squeezing Keith's hand in his own. "I don't wanna die without knowing wha-"  

There's a crashing sound and they both jump, and then all of the lights go out. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More misunderstandings ensue, and then a mission goes very, very wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some obvious divergence from canon here! 
> 
> TW for self-harm, and mentions of abuse.

They careen through the pitch-black hallways of the castle, hands clasped tight and footsteps echoing on the floor. Keith's fairly certain that if he doesn't get a break from all this adrenaline soon, he's actually going to die of a heart attack at the age of eighteen. The warmth of Lance's fingers entwined with his seems to be keeping him grounded, but unfortunately, he manages to fuck that up. Like he always does. 

"What the-" The lights come on again suddenly, and Keith slams into Lance's back, knocking them both to the floor. He groans, then realizes that Pidge and Hunk are also here, staring at them strangely, so he immediately rips his hand away from Lance's and pushes himself to his feet.  

"Are you guys...okay?" Hunk asks carefully as Lance sits up, groaning and rubbing his head. He shoots a confused glance at Keith, who can feel himself starting to panic.  

 _You don't care_ , he tells himself, trying desperately not to think about Lance's freckles and how close they were only minutes ago.  _You don't care. If you care they can hurt you. Remember how much it hurts._  

"Yeah, uh, Lance was scared of the dark so I had to drag him here." The words are weak and they burn his throat and he cannot,  _cannot_ make eye contact because he knows he will cry. He  _knows_  he's being an asshole, but he's pretty sure that letting Lance in will hurt more than pushing him away.  

"Okay, if you almost got sucked out the airlock into space, you would be afraid too." Lance sounds indignant, not angry. "Anyway, what are you guys doing taking a nap when the castle is trying to kill us?!"   

Of course the castle isn't actually haunted, but being possessed by a crazy alien crystal isn't too far off. They all count themselves lucky that they don't end up in a supernova, and as soon as everything is resolved, Keith disappears. He feels Lance's eyes on him as he slips off the bridge, but he isn't followed. He's not sure how he feels about that.  

When he gets back to his room, Keith shrugs off his jacket, then kicks off his boots and pants as well, untucking his blade from his belt and resting it on the end of the bed. He flops down beside it in only his briefs and t-shirt, hesitantly running a finger up his left thigh.   

It's decorated with neat rows of white scars that he's put there over the last ten years to remind him that he can't trust anyone but himself.  

When he closes his eyes, he sees the team's faces and his chest aches. He's walking a thin line right now – just enough closeness to be able to form Voltron and save the universe, but not enough to get him hurt. Keith thinks of Lance's fingers in his, their foreheads touching, the constellation of freckles across his face. He growls, frustrated, and forces himself to recall images from his past.  

 _Being left alone by his dad_ _when he was five_ _. Wishing he would be left alone by his foster dad_ _when he was eight_ (that one has a particular sting to it, because he was too young to understand the difference between a loving parent and...something else) _._ _Living somewhere new every six months_ _, where_ _differ_ _en_ _t_ _people ignored him or yelled at him or smacked him around_ _._ _Thinking he_ _had something_ _with_ _Garret_ _, only to have him break Keith's...heart. Among other things._  

It's almost enough, but not quite, so he pulls a small blade from the drawer beside his bed and stares at it carefully before dropping the razor-sharp edge to the white skin above his knee and pressing down. There's a sharp sting, and then small drops of blood well up around the shallow wound. He exhales, feeling the knot in his chest slowly untangle.  

 _Again. Again. Again._ After a bit, everything feels soft and warm, and he stumbles to the washroom to clean up his mess and press a bandage over his thigh. The sting of all the tiny cuts actually helps him sleep.  

 

* * *

 

Keith hasn't really talked to Lance in two weeks, and Lance is starting to sort of, kind of lose his mind. He's pretty sure that his idiotic attempt at kissing Keith is what caused this, but he's at a loss as to how to fix it. He's tried to find Keith at night on the training deck, or in the observatory, but it seems that Keith has developed an uncanny ability to be exactly where Lance isn't.  

Lance is confused and sad and more than a little bit hurt, but there isn't much he can do about it, so he tries to keep himself busy.  

Eventually they get some information from Sendak's memories, and they head off on a new mission. Lance is excited to be back out in the thick of things, but then shit happens, people make bad decisions, and honestly, it's all a bit of a clusterfuck.  

Allura gets kidnapped – or rather, she sacrifices herself to save Shiro – so now they're basically taking on the entire Galra fleet in order to get her back. Which is terrifying. What's worse is that Keith says it's a terrible idea and Lance  _agrees_ , but of course he has to be ornery so he just calls Keith a coward. 

And now Voltron is being torn apart. 

"Somebody do something!" Lance shouts, gripping Blue's controls and feeling them resist him. He can't see what's going on from where he is, but he can tell it's bad. Things are exploding everywhere and they're all flying off in different directions. Lance feels panic blooming in his chest, crawling into his fingers and making him dig his nails into his palms.  

"...get the Princess without me!" Keith's voice sounds like it's coming from underwater, and Lance snaps his head up, dragging his gaze away from the bloody half-moons on his palm.  

"What are you doing?" He shouts, gripping Blue's controls with shaking hands as he watches Keith pilot Red straight at the Galra ship.  

"He's too powerful! Don't engage!" Coran shouts out a warning, and then Lance sees Zarkon, and the panic in his veins turns to terror. He flips his comm and opens a direct line to Keith.  

"Keith!" He shouts, firing left and right at the Galra fighters, hands moving automatically. "Don't do this! You're gonna get yourself killed!"  

"I'm expendable," comes a shaky response, and Lance can hear how scared he is behind all the bravado. "Shiro and Allura aren't. Focus on the mission." The last part is almost whispered.  

"Don't be an idiot," Lance pleads, dodging a group of fighters and coming up behind them, blowing them to pieces. "You're not expendable. You're part of the team!"  

"I suck at teamwork. You'll find someone else to pilot Red," Keith insists, then cries out in pain and Lance can see his lion being slammed into the hull of the ship. Zarkon is  _terrifying_. "Get...Allura. Get out."  

"Keith, get out of there, please," Lance begs, and he wants so badly to fly over to Keith but now he's pinned down and can't get away. "I know I screwed something up with you and I'm sorry but I can't lose you. You're important to the team but you're also important to  _me_ , so don't you  _dare_ get yourself killed, you..."   

There's a screeching sound and a bang, and Lance hears a pained groan from Keith. He whips his headset back to broadcasting to everyone.  

"Could someone get Keith  _out_ of there before Zarkon  _kills_ him?!" He can't even see what's going on anymore, but he sees a flash of yellow in front of him and follows it blindly.  

"I've got him, Lance." Shiro's voice is subdued, but Lance releases the breath he didn't realize he was holding.  

"And we've got Allura," Hunk says. "Let's get out of here and never come back." There's a murmur of assent from everyone, and Lance switches back to his private channel with Keith.  

"Keith, you okay buddy?" There's no response. "Say something, please." Back on the general channel he adds, "Guys, I think Keith's hurt." There's a concerned chorus of everyone calling the red paladin's name, and an ominous silence in response.  

"We'll get him into a healing pod right away," Shiro reassures, but Lance is starting to seriously freak out. They've piled back into the castle, crash-landing awkwardly, when something hits the ship and it starts to shake. "Coran..." Shiro says cautiously. "What's going on?"  

There's a groaning noise and a pulling sensation, and then everyone is screaming and the last thing Lance remembers is latching his lion onto Red's tail as they all fly back out of the ship.  

 

* * *

 

Keith wakes up with blood in his eyes, which he's pretty sure isn't a good thing. He blinks a few times, vison blurry, and realizes that he's in Red and she's...upside down? There's a loud banging and an angry, muffled noise somewhere nearby, and it takes him a few bleary, unfocused minutes to realize that it's coming from his helmet. It's cracked and stained with blood, but he pulls it back on.  

"Open your stupid door, you stupid lion!" Lance's voice immediately assaults his ears and Keith groans as pain flares in the back of his head. The shouting stops. "Keith? Holy shit, is that you? Are you okay? Let me in through the emergency hatch, I'm gonna freeze to death out here."  

Keith tries to answer but he just coughs up more blood. He looks around and realizes that the emergency hatch isn't too far away from him, so he wobbles slightly and tries to push himself to his feet.  

The pain is overwhelming, and he can't help the whimper that escapes his lips. He manages to stumble forward a few steps before collapsing, hand on the latch. Once he hears the  _click_ , he rolls onto his back and breathes heavily, vision spotty. 

"Oh my god, Keith, are you okay?" Keith looks up blearily at the figure in front of him. Lance has pulled his helmet off and his hair is all over the place and he looks so fucking  _adorable_ that Keith just can’t handle it. He’s tugging Keith’s helmet off too, and his lips are moving so he must be saying something else. 

“Y’r hair…’s a mess,” Keith slurs, and spits up more blood, and the look on Lance’s face is worrying.  

“Oookay, you definitely have a concussion.” Lance is running a hand over his cheek and the gesture feels so  _nice_ that Keith just leans into it. Why is everything so fuzzy? “Where else does it hurt?” He frowns at Lance, then looks down at himself.  

“Ev’rwh’re,” he mumbles, then focuses on where the pain is worst. “Arm. Think ‘s…broken.” Lance is unstrapping Keith’s armor now, peeling away the chest plate and the arm guards.  

“Holy shit, yeah, that’s definitely broken,” he says, and Keith’s afraid to look. Last time he broke his arm, the bone snapped right out of the skin, and it hurt like hell. This time it’s more…muted. He ends up looking and regrets it, because his hand is at an angle that is definitely unnatural. "We're gonna have to splint that. Where's the emergency kit?"  

“Dunno. M' head ‘s bad…too,” he says, then starts to shiver. “Why..’sit so fuck’n cold?”  

“Because we ended up on like, Hoth or something,” Lance grumbles, standing up and poking around the shelves. Keith has no idea where Hoth is, but it doesn’t sound good. “Both the lions are out of commission and I can’t raise anyone on the comms. Plus this planet is under Galra occupation, so we’re just gonna have to sit tight and wait for the others to come find us.”  

“Lance?” Keith suddenly feels the world spin, and his stomach rebels against him. “Gon’ be sick.”  

“I've gotcha.” Lance holds him as he rolls on his side and throws up on the floor which is so fucking gross but he can’t even bring himself to care. “Better?” Lance holds out a pouch of water and helps Keith take a drink. "I'm gonna move you away from the hatch, okay?"  

Keith makes a sound of assent, too tired and hurt to even feel embarrassed at Lance wrapping his arms under his shoulders and dragging him backwards. He grunts in pain a few times, but Lance is surprisingly gentle, and he lays Keith down by the wall with a blanket rolled up under his head.   

“Head...hur's,” Keith whimpers, and Lance makes a soft sound, squeezing Keith's shoulder sympathetically. He's stripped almost all of Keith's armor off now, and is pulling a second blanket over him instead.  

“It's cause you're an idiot and you charged in without thinking,” he grumbles without malice. He’s finally found the emergency kit, and is pulling items out of it one at a time. He finds a small, thin patch that Keith thinks is some sort of Altean pain medication, and presses it onto the side of Keith's neck.   

"Yeesh, that is deep," Lance mutters as he dabs at the gash on Keith’s forehead with some sort of antiseptic that stings like hell. "I'm gonna have to stitch this up." Keith whines a little, embarrassed by the sound. "I know, buddy." Lance pulls out a suture kit and Keith swallows heavily.  

"Mmnn don' like needles," he mumbles. He's beyond feeling embarrassed because his brain is fuzzy and there’s a sort of ringing in his left ear that makes him wonder if his hearing aid broke on that side, and he keeps spitting up blood and kind of feels like he’s going to die.  

"Big, bad Keith is afraid of a little needle?" His voice is teasing but not cruel.  

"Sh'up," Keith grumbles. He's really hoping that the pain medication kicks in soon. His wrist is throbbing and his head hurts both on his forehead and at the base of his skull. Plus something inside him doesn't feel right, like maybe his ribs are broken?   

"Okay, this is gonna hurt, but it'll stop the bleeding." Lance leans forward, running his fingers over the edges of the cut on Keith's forehead. "Talk to me." Keith tries to frown, but it hurts like hell. "It'll keep your mind off this. What's your favorite ice cream flavor?"  

 

* * *

 

"V'nilla," Keith slurs, tensing and crying out as Lance slides the needle under his skin. "Fffffuck tha' hur's." Lance gives him an apologetic look, biting his lip. He's concerned about Keith's difficulty speaking. His field medic course felt like it was ages ago, but he knows that slurred speech and vomiting after a head injury are not good signs.  

"That is literally the most boring flavor ever, way to go." He tries to keep his words light and teasing, and focuses on his hands and the needle between his fingers. "Mine is obviously mint chocolate chip. Okay, uh...how many siblings do you have?"  

"Gnnnaaah! None." Lance gets in another two stitches with that question.  

"Lucky! I have six brothers and sisters. My parents are kinda crazy, and it's loud pretty much all the time, but I miss it a lot. You miss your parents?" Four down, hopefully only four more to go.  

"Don' h've parents," Keith replies. He's breathing erratically and tensing in anticipation of the next stitch, so Lance grabs his hand and squeezes it comfortingly. Wait a minute. Keith's an orphan?  

"Shit, I'm sorry man."  

"'s okay. They lef' wh'n I's...five." Okay, he's definitely getting harder to understand.  _Shit._  

"They... _left_ you?"  _Six...seven...eight..._  "Done!" Keith is crying from the pain now, and Lance murmurs another apology as he snips the end of the last suture, then tapes a bandage across the wound. "Better?" He tries to brush some of the blood-encrusted hair off of Keith's face. 

"Ngggh...th'k so?" Keith's having trouble keeping his eyes open now, and Lance taps him on the cheek to keep him awake. "Yeah. Lef' long time...'go. P'lice f'nd...'n wen' to foss'r fam'ly."  

Holy hell. Lance feels tears pricking his eyes at the image of five-year-old Keith being abandoned by his parents. No wonder he doesn't trust anyone.  

"I'm so sorry." He rubs his thumb over Keith's knuckles, and the dark-haired boy gazes at him blankly. "Alright, you're gonna hate me, but we've gotta splint your wrist now." Keith groans. "It's gonna hurt like a bitch, so I'm sorry in advance." 

“Can’t hurt wors’ than’na las’ time,” Keith slurs, giggling a bit. The painkillers must be kicking in. “Wen’ right thr-through th’ skin.” Lance gives Keith a horrified look as he prepares the two thin pieces of plastic and some strips of adhesive. Then he grabs Keith’s hand without warning and yanks it back into the proper position, wincing as Keith screams in pain.  

“How’d you manage to break it that badly?” Lance is trying his hardest to keep Keith awake – he knows that if he's confused and slurring his words and his pupils are different sizes that Keith should definitely not go to sleep.  

“Ga'ret di'it,” he mumbles as Lance places the plastic pieces on either side of his wrist and begins wrapping the adhesive around it. “'N 'is frien's. Broke m’ jaw too.” Lance's chest clenches, and if Keith wasn't in excruciating pain right now, he'd be wrapping his arms around the other boy and holding him tight.  

“What the  _fuck_ ,” he breathes, finishing his bandaging but leaving his fingertips touching Keith’s. “Garret? Like from the Garrison? How…what…”  

“He ch'nged 'is mind,” Keith continues, and Lance can see that his expression is more relaxed, and he's not clenching his teeth anymore. “'s okay f'r kissin' me...'til his b-buddies foun' out." Keith is frowning, and shaking his head to keep himself awake.  

“Keith, I’m so sorry,” Lance whispers, running his thumb over the back of Keith’s knuckles. “That’s…awful.” Keith shrugs, then winces. Lance sighs, knowing that if Keith wasn't concussed and high on Altean painkillers, he would  _never_ reveal this information to  _anyone_ , especially not him.   

“Wasn’ th’ first person to…hit me.” Lance’s starts running his hands up and down Keith's legs now, checking for more injuries, and he's thankful when he doesn’t find any. “Prob’ly won’ be…the las’.”  

"You deserve so much better," Lance whispers, hands shaky from exhaustion and horror and his own pain – nothing as bad as this, but he's definitely scraped and bruised. "You know that none of us would ever hurt you, right? I mean, outside the training deck."  

Keith frowns up at him, reaching up with his non-injured hand to touch Lance's cheek. His breathing is much more even now, but it seems to be hitching slightly.  

"You...tried'a kiss me."  

Lance's cheeks flush so hard that he's sure Keith can feel the heat under his fingertips.  

"Yeah, I did," he admits, resting a hand on Keith's knee and bringing the other one up to cover Keith's hand on his cheek. "And if you want me to do it again, when you're safe and conscious and thinking clearly, I will."  

Keith smiles then, and it's the softest, sweetest smile Lance has ever seen on the dark-haired boy's face.  

"'kay," Keith murmurs, dropping his hand back to his chest and closing his eyes.  

"Hey, no sleeping on me here, mullet," Lance protests, shaking his shoulder. "You gotta keep me from getting bored." Keith snorts as Lance settles himself against the wall and wriggles until Keith's head is in his lap. "I'm gonna check the comms again."  

 

* * *

 

 _Maybe I should just tell him_ , Keith thinks, bravery buoyed by the unfamiliar drugs flowing through his system.  _Maybe he wouldn't hate me._ He takes a deep breath and looks up at Lance, who has pulled off his helmet again and is smiling down at Keith and brushing his blood-sticky bangs off his forehead.  

"Nothing yet," he says, tipping his head back against the wall and giving Keith a thin smile. "But they'll find us."  

Keith opens his mouth, wanting to either comfort Lance, or tell him his truth while he's in this comfortable haze of medication, but he is rudely interrupted by a loud banging on the emergency hatch. Lance freezes, grabbing Keith's uninjured hand and squeezing it tightly.  

 _It's not the team_ , Keith thinks with a sinking feeling in his stomach. The banging comes again, and then there's a click and some rapid beeping.  

"Shit," Lance whispers as he darts to his feet, grabbing Keith under his arms and trying to drag him away but it's too late.  

The explosion makes everything bright and sharp at the edges, and if Keith's ears weren't ringing before, they definitely are now. He looks up for Lance and sees him knocked back onto his elbows, reaching for his bayard. A tall Galra soldier bursts through the hatch and stalks over to Lance, stepping on his wrist before he can reach the weapon. Lance cries out in pain and Keith growls.  

"L'mmm g'nnngh." He tries to yell something, but he's struggling hard against the welcoming darkness of unconsciousness, so all that comes out is a pained groan. The Galra soldier turns to Keith, yellow eyes flashing, then grins and speaks into a communicator on his wrist. 

"Tell Krolia that we have the paladins."  


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance and Keith need to escape from the Galra, but fist they meet someone who is oddly familiar...

Keith wakes a few times on the trip to the Galra base. He's thrown over the large soldier's shoulder, hands cuffed in front of him – even around the splint on his wrist – and hair brushing his face. Every time he blinks, they're somewhere new.  _Blink._ Leaving the lions behind, Lance stumbling behind him with his hands behind his back.  _Blink_. In the middle of a frozen tundra, snow whipping around them, Lance shivering in only his thin bodysuit.  _Blink_. A dark, dimly-lit passageway, opening into a central chamber with a vidscreen and several sentries.  

"Search them." Keith is dropped to the floor next to Lance and he groans, attempting to roll onto his back and failing miserably. They are surrounded by soldiers – maybe six of them? Or is he seeing double? It's hard to tell, it's so dark in here. He coughs, and he's certain there's blood on his face now. 

"Lance," he mumbles, and the other boy blinks up at him. A bruise is forming on his cheekbone – obviously he tried to fight back. "You 'kay?"  

"Never better." Lance flashes him a grin, and Keith sees his eyes flicking over the room. Keith knows that look. Lance is  _scheming_. Whatever he's thinking, he'd better do it fast.  

Keith's thoughts are interrupted by one of the soldiers pulling him to his knees and patting down his arms and legs. He tries to snarl, but the man grabs him by the hair and tugs his head back until he's biting back a pained whimper. They take his boots and gloves, leaving him only the bodysuit and the cuffs.  

"I found something." He feels the fingers in his hair shift, and barely has time to think,  _oh, fuck,_ before the soldier yanks his hearing aid from his ear and tossing it to the ground. Keith growls and tries to pull away, but the soldier quickly finds the other one and then everything is muffled. He watches with horror as the soldier's boot comes down on one, then the other, crushing them into a million tiny pieces.  

 

* * *

 

Oh.  _Oh._ Lance blinks a few times, watching the soldier's heel make quick work of the plastic and wires.  _Well. That explains...a lot_ _._  Suddenly everything is making so much more sense, but Lance can't focus on that now because the only thing he sees is Keith's face. There are a million different expressions flickering across it, but Lance is fairly certain that the main one is terror.  

"You imbecile!" A voice comes from farther in the room, and Lance flicks his eyes up to see a tall, intimidating-looking Galra woman – presumably Krolia – standing in front of them, her arms crossed and her gaze directed at the soldier behind Keith. "Those were communications devices! We could have used them to contact the other paladins. Zarkon wants  _all_ the lions, not just two."  

"My apologies, capt-" The man's apology is cut short by a shot from her blaster, and then he collapses on the floor next to Keith. Krolia holsters her weapon, then turns to Lance, face impassive. 

"You must be the blue paladin," she says slowly, and Lance frowns at her. There's something familiar about her eyes. Have they met before? She grips Lance's chin in her hand and tips it upward, gazing at him intently. "We only need one of you alive, you know." She pushes him away, then stalks over to Keith and glares at him, hand on her weapon again. "Should I kill this one?" 

" _Go fuck yourself_ ," Keith growls before Lance can say anything. Then he spits at her feet and Lance is simultaneously exasperated and impressed. He's looking around the room frantically, trying to figure out how to get them out of this mess. They are weaponless and without their lions, Keith (presumably) can't hear anything, the castle ship doesn’t know they're here, and from what Lance saw on the way in, there are a  _lot_ of guards outside. Plus, they both probably have hypothermia, and Keith is seriously injured. 

"Wh-where is your ship?" Lance immediately detects the slight falter in Krolia's voice, and he glances up at her to see her gazing intently at Keith. Keith is sneering at her, body trembling, dried blood still stuck in his hair and down his cheek. He radiates and aura of intensity, and Lance is awed by it. "Where are the other lions?" The woman tries again, but Keith either doesn’t understand her or stubbornly refuses to respond.  

When Krolia backhands Keith, Lance cries out in surprise, struggling against his bonds. Keith barely flinches. The imposing woman's face betrays a tiny hint of – regret? Apology? What in the ten hells is going on here? She clenches her hand into a fist. 

"Put them in the holding cells," the woman snarls, her brow furrowed in what appears to be confusion. "And get those lions powered up so we can get a signal to the rest of Voltron." She gestures to a pile of purplish canisters in the corner of the room.  _Quintessence_. 

Lance stumbles to his feet and watches one of the soldiers haul Keith up by his hair, despite his best attempts to bite them. They are shoved and manhandled and finally end up in tiny, uncomfortable prison cells, separated only by thin bars. Keith immediately shuffles to the back of his cell, pulls his knees to his chest, and lowers his head.  

"Keith." Lance knows there's no point, but he tries anyway, earning the glare of the guard outside the cell. "Keeeeeeeeith." He sighs, looking around him for something small to throw at the other boy. He finds a dried piece of unidentifiable food –  _ew_ – and hucks it through the bars. It's a good thing he's the sharpshooter, and he's able to hit Keith in his temple.  

Keith's head whips up and he glares at Lance. It's part angry, part hurt, part mortified, and Lance's chest hurts a little bit.  

 _Do you know sign?_ Keith's eyes widen at Lance's hand movements, but he doesn’t respond. He frowns at Lance, glancing around as if this might somehow be a trap. Lance just stares at him expectantly, and eventually he gives a sharp nod.  _Good. We're getting out of here._  

 

* * *

 

Lance knows sign language? Keith frowns at him, brain still too fuzzy and overloaded to process this kind of information. What he  _can_ focus on is that Lance seems to have a plan. 

 _How do we get out_ _?_ He signs eventually, one-handed, but Lance seems to get it.  

 _Can you drive?_ Lance gestures to Keith's splinted wrist, and he ponders the question for a second. The drugs are definitely in his system now, and they'll probably dull his reflexes, but theoretically, yes, he can drive. He gestures a  _so-so_ sign at Lance, then coughs violently, wiping away blood with the back of his hand.  

Lance frowns and sits there for a moment, fingers tapping on the bars separating them, eyes screwed shut like he's doing complex mathematical calculations. Keith presses himself further back into his corner.  

He's cold, and scared, and he can't hear anything but a low buzzing hum of background noise, and he's never going to be able to hear anything properly ever again, so they're going to kick him out of Voltron, and then where's he going to go? He can't even get back to Earth from here – that is, if they escape from here at all, there's a good chance they'll just die here on this random ice planet -  

A sharp burst of movement shakes him out of his reverie and he realizes that Lance is waving at him to get his attention.  

 _We're_ _gonna_ _call the castle,_ Lance signs, casting a cautious glance at their sentry, who appears to be completely oblivious to their silent conversation.  _Let them know exactly where we are. Then t_ _hey're_ _gonna_ _blow this place up while we get the hell out of here._ Keith frowns – this plan sounds like it has potential, in theory, but there are lots of structural pieces that are missi-  _Stop freaking out._  

 _I'm not freaking out._ Keith glowers, but Lance just looks at him with a strange, sad expression, and chews on his lip.  

 _Come here._ Lance motions to the floor right next to him, and Keith shivers, shaking his head. He looks down at his feet and realizes that his whole body is trembling. The bodysuits aren't mean for heat retention, and his is pretty badly torn up anyway. His feet are bare, and they look like they're bleeding. Whatever's wrong in his chest doesn't hurt, but he knows it's bad regardless.  

 _I can't feel anything,_ he signs, pulling his knees tighter to his chest.  

 _That's the drugs I gave you_ , Lance replies, motioning again for Keith to join him near the bars.  _They're meant for an_ _Altean_ _, your body's probably having a hard time processing them._ Keith nods, but the motion feels slow and distorted.  

 _How do you know sign?_ He knows this isn't really relevant right now, and that they have far bigger things to worry about, but the question is stuck in his head and he'd rather talk about that than get stuck inside his head. He presses his thumb down on his thigh, trying to summon the pain from his self-inflicted cuts, but all he feels is numb.  

 _My_ _brother-in-law i_ _s deaf,_ Lance replies, dropping from his knees into a cross-legged sitting position. Keith can see that Lance's face is scratched and bruised, but he otherwise appears to be okay.  _My sister and I took classes so she could talk to him._ Keith nods again. It seems like this is all he can do.  _Come over here,_ Lance tries again.  _We can at least lean on each other and try to keep warm that way._  

Keith finally gives in and scoots over to the barrier between their cells, leaning against it and feeling the warmth of Lance's body pressing up against him. Like this, they're too close to sign, but he feels Lance reach a hand between the bars and brush tentatively against his. He shudders for a second, thinking of pulling away, but he is so tired and cold and so he twines their fingers together and almost immediately falls asleep.  

 

* * *

 

Lance has no way to tell what time it is, but it's probably been at least eight hours before Krolia appears in front of their cells. Keith is asleep, snoring softly against the bars, and Lance doesn't try to wake him.  

"The lions won't let us in." Krolia's voice isn't angry, but there is a curiosity to her words that puzzles Lance. "I assume you two are the keys to unlock them." Lance schools his features into a neutral expression, trying not to shiver.  

"Are you going to kill us?" He asks softly. "If you want us alive, my friend needs medical attention." Krolia flicks her gaze to Keith, then motions for the sentry to unlock the cell doors. Lance stands slowly, dizzy from the lack of food.  

"Prisoner." The sentry stands in front of Keith and nudges him with its foot. Keith shoots awake, looking around him with panic in his eyes before his gaze lands on Lance and he calms.  

 _Trust me,_ Lance signs, small and hidden, and Keith gives him an inscrutable look before giving a tiny bob of his head.  

They make the trek back to the central command room, both boys unsteady on their feet. The medicine has worn off for Keith, and Lance can see the tight lines of pain on his face. When they arrive, they find themselves in front of a large viewscreen.  

"Call your people." Krolia addresses her order to Lance, and he glares at her stubbornly. This is part of his plan, but he can't seem too eager or she'll know something is up. He counted the sentries on their way in – only four, as long as he can get his hands on a weapon, those aren't bad odds.  

"Go quiznack yourself," he growls, and almost immediately, Krolia steps over to Keith. She kicks him in the back of the knees until he falls to the floor, then pulls out her weapon and places it to his temple. A hot flash of panic zips through Lance's skin.  _It's part of the plan,_ he thinks, but he is petrified of the plan going sideways and Keith ending up dead. 

"Call your people." Her tone doesn't change, but Lance swallows hard at the sight of her gun resting so casually against Keith's head. The strange emotions he was picking up from her several days ago seem to be gone, and her face is set in grim determination.  

"Fine." Lance's hands tremble as he approaches the computer terminal, already opened to a channel, just waiting for his frequency input.  

"Lance, don't." Keith's voice is scratchy but hard, and Lance spares a glance back at his friend before tapping in the numbers. "Lance!"  

Allura answers almost immediately, and even though this isn't an ideal situation, seeing her fills Lance with a sense of calm. They can do this. He can do this. Taking a deep breath, he brings his left hand up to rest on his right arm, looking like a nervous gesture. Then he begins to tap.  

"We've captured your paladins," Krolia says, grabbing Keith by his hair and dragging him into view. Allura gasps, and Lance can see Pidge and Hunk and Shiro looking terrified in the background.  

 _Pidge, look at me,_ Lance thinks desperately.  _Look at me and understand._  

"Bring the rest of the lions to us and we will spare them." Keith groans at the fist in his hair, and Lance can see tears pricking the edges of his eyes. He keeps tapping, trying to keep his pace steady even though inside he feels like he's definitely going to throw up. This plan was a lot easier when it was just a theory that he shared with Keith through the bars of their cell. 

 _Long, short. Short, short, l_ _ong. Long, short, l_ _ong. Short._ Pidge's eyes finally widen and she gives Lance a quick nod, moving to her computer and typing rapidly. Allura's eyes flick down to the screen in front of her, and she tries not to look flustered. Lance can see it, though – the slight flaring of her nostrils, the way she clenches the pedestal a little bit tighter, the tremble in her shoulders.  

"All right," she says softly, ignoring Shiro's gasp of surprise. Lance can see Pidge tapping her fingers now, slightly more rapid than Lance's, and he tries his best to catch her response.  

 _O-N. …-A-Y. G-…-T. …-U-…_ On...way...get out. Lance suppresses a grin. Time to move to phase two.  

 

* * *

 

Keith is struggling against this woman's grip on his hair, and is trying to let his body go slack against it. Her weapon is tantalizingly close, and  _god,_ does he really hope this stupid plan works. He takes a few deep breaths, watching Lance's hands out of the corner of his eye, and when the other boy gives the signal, he springs into action.  

He's fast, and he knows it. He ducks out of the way of the gun and headbutts the woman in the stomach, then drops onto her chest and slams his foot onto her wrist. As soon as the weapon is out of her grasp, he kicks it to Lance, hoping he was quick enough. He raises his bound hands to hit her in the head, but she is looking up at him with an expression of awe and...fondness? It makes him uneasy.  

"I....an...el...the...go." Her lips are moving too fast for him to understand, but when she looks at him desperately and mouths "GO" again, he stumbles back up to his feet. Turning, he sees that Lance has taken out all four sentries – of course – and is running toward him, reaching out for his arm. He points the gun at the Galra woman, but for a reason that Keith can't explain, he stops him.  

 _Leave her,_ he signs with his good hand, and Lance gives him a long look. The woman on the floor says something to them and Lance looks bewildered, but nods to Keith and gestures towards the purple containers in the corner of the room. Something in Keith's chest shifts at this blatant show of  _trust_. Lance trusts him. Trusts his judgement.  

He dashes forward and grabs a canister under each arm, sparing a backward glance at the Galra woman. She has stumbled to her feet and is leaning heavily on the computer terminal, and she motions for him to run. He does.  

There's a hoverbike outside, and by the time they make their way to it, Keith is gasping from the pain. The stitches in his head  _ache_ , and his wrist is pulsing with a dull, deep throb. Whatever is broken in his chest is agonizing, making his vision blur and his breath come out in short, sharp whines. He drives anyway, Lance riding backwards behind him and firing at the Galra forces with a stolen blaster.  

They make it halfway back to the lions when the first explosions rock the landscape. Keith feels the hoverbike shudder, and he looks up to see the castle in the air, and then Shiro, and Pidge, and Hunk flying over the compound and bombarding it with heavy blasts. He guns the bike's engine and when they make it to Blue, he collapses across the handlebars.  

There is a muffled sound next to his ear, and then strong arms are wrapped around him, lifting him up and carrying him, and he can feel a voice rumbling in the chest where his head rests. It feels like it's saying,  _it's going to be okay_.  

 

* * *

 

"Nuke it from orbit?" Pidge is glaring at Lance, who is sitting on the ground next to Keith's healing pod, looking up at the dark-haired boy with a mix of affection and apprehension. "Seriously?"  

"It was concise!" Lance protests, tapping his fingers on his knees. "It was the only way to be sure." Pidge rolls her eyes, slumping down onto the floor across from Lance.  

"You're lucky Hunk and I are such nerds," she grumbles, but Lance can see the relief in her eyes. When he had finally landed in the ship, Red grasped tightly in Blue's jaws, he had been shaking so hard he could barely carry Keith out of the lion. Everyone's faces had been terrified by his shouts of  _help him, please, he can't breathe_ _._  

"At least we destroyed the base," Lance says finally, leaning his head back against the healing pod and looking up at Keith. His face is so soft and open right now; the line between his eyes erased completely. Coran had to re-break the wrist and set it properly – luckily Keith had been unconscious for that – but he had praised Lance's sutures on the head wound. It will likely scar, even with the healing pod, but Lance has a feeling that Keith will think it's badass. His broken ribs and punctured lung are the reason he's still in there, three days after Lance had been allowed to leave his own pod.  

"He'll be okay," Pidge reassures, reaching out her leg and tapping it against Lance's ankle. Lance hums in agreement, reaching up to rub his eyes. He can't stop thinking about the Galra woman, the familiarity, and her last words to Lance.  

 _Take care of him,_ she had said.  _And tell him I'm sorry._ Lance shakes his head, trying to get the image out of his mind. 

"Hey Pidgeon?" He changes his focus instead to the memory of red and black plastic smashed beneath a Galra soldier's foot. Pidge cocks her head at him. "Do you think you'd be able to make a set of hearing aids?"  


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith wakes up from a malfunctioning pod. Lance tries to talk to him, but things go kinda sideways.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not really a TW, but discussion of shitty experiences in foster care.

Keith has been in the pod for three days when an unfamiliar alarm begins to sound. Blue and green lights flicker down the edge of the machine, and Lance, who has been sleeping on the couch (that they installed here for this very reason) sits up and rubs his eyes. Coran is standing at the console looking perplexed.  

"It shouldn't be ready yet," he says, running his fingers over the instruments. "He's got at least a half a quintant left." Lance jumps up from the couch and darts over to the pod, frowning at the lights.  

"What's wrong with it?" He asks, brow furrowing at the Altean script flashing across the screen. Keith's eyes are still closed and he doesn't look...healed. 

"It says it can't finish the process," Coran replies slowly. "Recalibrate species scan?" His voice sounds incredulous, but Lance isn't paying attention because the pod is hissing open and Keith's eyes are still closed, and he's falling bonelessly into Lance's arms.  

"Oof." Lance grabs Keith under the arms and manages to prop him up enough to get them back over to the couch. "Shouldn't he be awake? What's wrong with him?" Panic is starting to flood through his system, and he's just so goddamn sick of being afraid. Keith's head lolls against his chest and he lifts a shaky finger to the dark-haired boy's neck, feeling slightly reassured by the faint pulse he finds.  

"There's something wrong with the DNA calibrations," Coran replies, flipping through several screens and scanning through the unfamiliar characters. "We had to reprogram them for humans when you lot came on board, otherwise it would try to heal you to Altean parameters, and that wouldn't be pretty! But the program's saying that it wasn't able to complete Keith's healing cycle because of a fault in the species programming."  

"I gave him those Altean painkillers, could that have done something?" Keith is stirring now, very slightly, hands twitching and soft sounds escaping his lips. Lance tightens his grip and moves Keith until he is lying with his head in Lance's lap.  

"Perhaps, my boy." Coran doesn’t sound convinced. He sounds...suspicious. "It will take some time to run a diagnostic. How is he looking?"  

"I'm...not sure." Lance runs his hands hesitantly over Keith's body, feeling for his injuries. His wrist is still somewhat swollen, but not as bad as before, and the cut over his eye has healed enough to be a thick red line instead of an open wound. When Lance presses gently on Keith's ribs, the dark-haired boy lets out a soft whine of pain and opens his eyes. "Hey sunshine," Lance says softly, brushing some wayward locks of hair out of Keith's eyes. "You with us?"  

Keith frowns, staring at Lance's lips, and any hope that Lance might have had of the healing pod restoring Keith's hearing are dashed.  

 _How do you feel?_  He signs, keeping his hand tight to his chest. Keith's eyes widen and he tries to look around, but winces at the bright lights. "Can you turn the lights down?" Lance says out loud. "He's awake but I think it's hurting his eyes." The room immediately becomes dimmer and Keith relaxes. 

 _Did y_ _ou...tell them?_ Keith's signing is weak and hesitant, but Lance immediately shakes his head.  

 _No. Only Pidge, I'll explain later._ Keith exhales shakily, moving his body experimentally and wincing at some of the movements. He doesn’t try to sit up, though.  _Still in pain?_  

 _Better than before,_ Keith replies, shifting into what appears to be a slightly more comfortable position.  _We survived your stupid plan._ Lance gives a half-smile at that, enjoying the look of fond irritation on Keith's face.  

"Is he alright?" Keith jumps and Lance realizes that he couldn't hear Coran come up behind them. "Sorry lad, I'm just going to give you a quick once-over and then you can toodle off to your quarters and rest while we fix this blasted machine. Sit up if you can?"  

Keith flashes Lance a terrified look, and Lance realizes that a) Coran is speaking way too fast for Keith to follow, and b) his moustache is probably not helping things. It would be so much easier to just explain what's going on, but that's Keith's decision and Lance is not risking his ire. Lance's grip on Keith's shoulder tightens, and he helps him sit up slowly, then he moves until he's standing slightly behind Coran.  

"We'll have to scan your wrist again later to see how the bone is healing, but how's the pain right now?" Coran grasps Keith's fingers and begins to manipulate them gently.  

 _Scan later, how's wrist pain?_ Lance signs quickly behind Coran's back. Keith blinks a few times.  

"Fine," he says, and his voice is hoarse and much louder than it needs to be. Lance grimaces, gesturing to his own throat and pointing downwards. "Fine," Keith says again, at a much more acceptable level. Coran doesn’t seem to have noticed.  

"Follow my finger with your eyes," he says, trailing it back and forth, and Keith seems to pick up on what's expected of him without Lance's help. The mustached man then runs his fingers down Keith's ribs, and Lance can see Keith wincing. "Well, you're better than before, but certainly not as healthy as a Klevithian enz'bak."  

 _Better, but not a hundred percent,_ Lance translates. Keith sighs, shifting his weight from side to side.  

"I'll live," he says out loud, voice in the appropriate volume range. "Just tired. Can I go back to my room?" Coran nods, standing up and moving out of the way. Lances reach out to Keith, pulling the dark-haired boy to his feet and wrapping an arm around his waist.  

"I'll make sure he gets there without passing out in the hallway," Lance says airily, heading for the door. Coran doesn't appear to be listening – he's moved back to the machine and is looking very Pidge-like as he frowns at the machinery.  

 

* * *

 

Everything is soft and muffled, and Keith is actually kind of thankful because his head is killing him and he doesn't think he could handle any sound right now. He's still disoriented – how long has he been out? Where is everyone? - and he can't stop thinking about the red and black plastic being crushed under the soldier's heel. Or the familiar face of the female Galra – the way she looked at him, and helped them escape. Or how Lance somehow knows how to sign? And doesn't seem to be fazed by Keith's...disability?  

Lance helps him sit down on his bed, then crouches down in front of him, reaching up and running a thumb under the mark on his forehead. Keith flinches a little, and Lance gives him a look that he can't read.  

 _You okay?_ Lance asks one-handed, keeping his fingers on the side of Keith's face. Keith leans into the touch, eyes heavy. He huffs.  

 _No?_ Everything in his head is fuzzy, like he's looking at Lance through a rain-covered window.  _Tired. Confused._ He pauses for a moment.  _Scared._  

 _I know,_ Lance replies, and Keith realizes suddenly that Lance also looks exhausted.  

 _Have you been sleeping?_ Lance bobs his head noncommittally.  _How long was I out? Are you okay? Did you get hurt?_  

 _Three days._ Lance brushes a few stray pieces of Keith's hair out of his face and he sighs. A niggling feeling of doubt and fear lingers in the back of his mind, telling him to stop letting this boy get so close, but he chooses to ignore it for the moment.  _I got grazed, nothing serious. You, however, had a punctured lung, a fractured wrist, a serious concussion, and hypothermia._ Keith blinks at the list of injuries.  _Don’t scare me like that again, okay?_  

 _I make no promises,_ Keith replies lazily before collapsing backward onto the bed. God, lying down feels so good. Then his eyes widen, and he turns back to Lance.  _You told Pidge?_ He feels his throat tightening and his face flushing with embarrassment.  

 _She's gonna try and make you new ones,_ Lance assures him, sitting down on the edge of the bed and gesturing to his ears.  _I haven't seen her in a couple days which must mean she's getting somewhere._  

 _She can...do that?_ Keith's fingers tug anxiously on loose blanket threads. He'd never considered that option before. He drifts a hand up to touch the space behind his ear.  

 _Why didn't you tell me?_ Lance asks, instead of answering the question.  _Us. Why didn't you tell us?_ Keith buries his face in the blankets, letting out what he's sure is a dramatic-sounding groan. He stiffens for a second when he feels a gentle hand in his hair, then relaxes into the touch.  

“I don’t want to leave,” he says finally, refusing to lift his head from the pillow. He feels Lance’s fingers tighten slightly in his hair, but Keith knows that as long as his eyes are closed, he can avoid whatever answer Lance has prepared. “I…I don’t have anywhere else to go.”  

Lance shakes him then, hard, and pokes him in the side until he’s forced to roll over onto his back. He keeps his eyes closed, though, and he can  _feel_ Lance’s huff of irritation at his childishness. Suddenly, a warm wetness enters his ear, and his eyes fly open in disgust. Lance is straddling his hips now, pinkie in Keith’s ear, smug look of satisfaction on his face.  

“God, Lance, that’s so gross!” Keith tries to push Lance off of him, but winces at the strain on his ribs. “Get. Off.” He scowls darkly at Lance.  

 _Not until you listen to me,_ Lance replies, shifting his weight slightly and sitting up so he can sign.  _Well, not_ ** _listen_** **,** _listen, obviously, but…you know what I mean._  

Keith crosses his arms over his chest, mindful of the pain in his wrist, and sighs.  

“Fine.” Lance exhales, and appears to be searching for something in Keith’s eyes.  

 _We would never make you leave,_ he signs finally, and when Keith looks doubtful, Lance digs a knee into his hip.  _Aren’t you and Shiro super close? He wouldn’t do that._ Lance looks thoughtful for a moment.  _Does Shiro know?_  

Keith hesitates, knowing that answering any of these questions will bring up a million things that he might not be ready to talk about. But he and Lance  _did_ just survive a nearly fatal encounter, so maybe he deserves some answers.  

“No,” he says out loud, because signing hurts his wrist. “Shiro doesn’t know. Nobody knows. Except you and Pidge, I guess.” He picks bits of invisible fluff from the sleeve of his bodysuit. “Shiro met me after it…happened. I can – could – usually hide it.”  

 _What happened?_ Lance signs. He doesn’t move from Keith’s hips, and when Keith brings his knees up, Lance just leans back against them. It’s not actually that uncomfortable.  _I get if you don’t want to talk about it._ Keith shrugs.  

“Does it matter, anymore? You already know all sorts of embarrassing shit about me.” He flops his head back onto the mattress, sighing. He can see Lance signing out of the corner of his eye.  

 _I wasn’t sure if you remembered that._ He looks shy, and Keith can’t imagine why, it’s not like  _his_ deepest, darkest secrets were revealed in haze of pain and brain trauma.  

“Yeah, I remember,” Keith grumbles, attempting to hide his face behind his hands. Lance gently grabs his forearms and pulls them away from his face, giving him a soft half-smile. Keith doesn’t deserve that smile.  

 _I’m sorry,_ he signs, and Keith frowns.  

“For what? You didn’t do anything. Other than save my life. Which I guess I should thank you for.”  

 _Sometimes, people are just sorry when terrible things happen to people they care about,_ Lance replies, and something in Keith twists uncomfortably. People don’t  _care_ about him. People keep him around until he’s inconvenient, then throw him away or leave him.  _Don’t you dare say that!_ Lance is squeezing his forearms now, and Keith realizes that he must have said all of that out loud.  _You’re part of this crazy-ass space family and we don’t just throw people away._  

“I don’t have a family,” Keith spits, and suddenly he’s struggling to get away from Lance again. “Get  _off_ me.” Either panic makes him stronger or Lance lets up easily, because he’s suddenly curled up in the corner of the bed, back pressed against the wall, and Lance is kneeling on the floor.  

 _I’m sorry,_ he’s signing, and Keith feels himself raise his lip in a snarl.  _I don’t know what I said, but I’m sorry. Do you want me to leave?_  

 _No_ , Keith thinks.  _No, no, no, please stay, don’t leave me alone, please don’t leave._   

“Yes,” he says instead, then curls himself into a tighter ball and tries not to cry.  

 

* * *

 

“Pidgeon, please tell me you’ve got something.” Lance slumps against the wall of the workshop, stomach twisting uncomfortably.  

“We’re getting there,” comes Hunk’s cheerful voice as he peeks over the bench. Lance yelps in surprise.  

“What…who…PIDGE!” He leans around the corner and comes face-to-face with Pidge, who is curled up in a chair and staring at her tablet intently. “It was supposed to be a secret! No offense, big man.” Hunk shrugs and wraps an arm around Lance’s shoulders.  

“None taken.” He gestures to the workbench. “Pidge needed my expertise. My lips are sealed though, I promise.” Hunk frowns and holds Lance out at arm’s length. “You okay, man?”  

“Keith woke up,” Lance replies, letting Hunk guide him to a chair opposite Pidge. She still hasn’t looked up from her tablet, and is swiping through it furiously, jotting down notes with her other hand.  

“I thought he was supposed to be in for another quintant,” Hunk says, puzzled. "Or is it dobosh? I always get those mixed up." 

“Coran said there was a malfunction with the pod,” Lance replies, pulling his knees up to his chest. “He’s okay – not totally healed, but better. He’s sleeping now, I think. I should probably go talk to Shiro.”  

“Got it!” Pidge leaps out of her seat and runs over to the workbench, gesturing for Hunk to follow. He shrugs helplessly at Lance, trailing after Pidge. “We were missing the piece for the speech processor. That’ll make it more effective than a regular hearing aid in the long run, especially if we can run it through the language archives on the ship. The only downside is that the receiver actually needs to be surgically implanted, but it would be a simple procedure. Coran could probably handle it. I’m sure there’s videos for this kind of thing somewhere. Is there a Space YouTube?”  

“Surgically implanted?” Lance didn’t follow most of what Pidge said, but the word  _surgical_ sticks out.  

“Mhmm,” Pidge replies, swiping at her diagram and enlarging portions of it for Hunk, who is making notes on another tablet. “This would actually bypass the damaged areas and stimulate the auditory nerve directly. It basically sends the impulse to the brain, which interprets it as sound.” 

“That’s…pretty cool, actually.” Lance peers at the screens in front of him. “Wait a minute, is that Keith?” He gestures to the central image, which appears to be a detailed scan of Keith’s…everything.  _Extremely_ detailed. Lance blushes and looks away.  

“I grabbed it from the healing pod,” Pidge says nonchalantly, powering up a small machine next to her. It looks sort of like a microwave, with three clear walls and a small tray in the center. “I needed to identify what caused the hearing loss. Looks like a traumatic injury to the head, which is kind of lucky.” 

“Lucky?” Lance is staring at her now, bewildered. “How is a traumatic injury  _lucky_?” 

“Well, if he’d been born deaf, this wouldn’t work. His brain wouldn’t know how to interpret the sounds he was hearing, and it would be overwhelming.” An array of lights on the machine turn green, and Pidge swipes the diagram from her tablet to the machine’s display. “Considering that he speaks well, I’m not surprised. I just wish I could get my hands on whatever he was using before.”  

“Yeah, well, they’re in pieces on  _Hoth_ , which we kind of…blew up,” Lance grumbles.  

“Does Keith…know about this?” Hunk asks suddenly, turning to Lance and gesturing to the schematics on the workbench. Lance nods.  

“We just talked about it,” he replies, sighing and pinching the bridge of his nose. “I have no idea how he feels about it. He’s kinda…pissed at me right now.”  

“What’d you do this time?” Pidge asks, feeding some sort of greyish material into the back of the machine. She flicks a button and it begins to make a whirring sound.  

“I…I don’t know,” Lance admits, and Hunk gives him a curious look. “Things are weird. He…said a lot of stuff when we were stuck down there. The blood loss and hypothermia and pain and drugs just…and I was trying to keep him talking so he wouldn’t pass out.” Hunk nods, leaning back against the workbench and crossing his arms.  

“So you think he’s embarrassed that you know that personal stuff about him?”  

“I know he is,” Lance says miserably. “He doesn’t want pity, which, okay, fair. But how am I supposed to feel when he tells me that fuckin’ Garett and his friends broke his arm  _and_ his jaw because Garret didn’t want anyone to find out he kissed Keith.”  

“He…what?” Hunk is starting to look angry now, which Lance knows is dangerous. Angry Hunk is like angry Hulk. “Is that why he got kicked…out…” Lance groans.  

“Fuck, I didn’t even think about that,” he mumbles, running a hand over his face. “And I probably shouldn’t be telling you this shit, but I’m worried about him. His abandonment issues have abandonment issues, and he thinks we’re gonna...get rid of him because of  _this_.” He gestures vaguely at the blueprints and the tablets and the whirring machine.  

“But we would nev-” 

“I know, and I tried to tell him that,” Lance says miserably. “He got really angry – or scared, its hard to tell with him – and told me to leave."  

“Maybe just give him some space,” Pidge suggests, popping open the door of the machine and pulling out a tray containing pieces that match the diagram in front of her. “Go talk to Shiro. Let Keith sleep, then go check on him.”  

“Ugh, you’re right,” Lance mumbles, and Pidge turns to him with a cheeky grin.  

“Of course I’m right,” she says. “Now, go. This should all be ready by tomorrow, I just gotta talk to Coran about the YouTube thing. And I guess we’ve gotta convince Keith that a  _teensy_ bit of surgery is totally worth it. And by  _we_ , I mean  _you._ ”  

 

* * *

 

After Lance leaves, Keith sits in the corner for a long time, shivering and biting the knuckle on his thumb. It’s a nervous habit that he’s had since forever, he thinks. Lance left the lights on and Keith kind of wishes he hadn't, so he pulls the blanket over his head instead and makes himself a little fortress where he can panic.  

 _You’re_ _part of this crazy-ass space family and we don’t just throw people away._  

The sentiment behind that statement fills him with a mix of terror and cautious optimism. Lance had  _seemed_ sincere, and had looked positively offended that Keith thought he was the kind of person to leave someone behind because they weren't useful anymore.  

Keith has seen that look before.  

 _"Where the hell_ _are_ _his parents?" Keith is supposed to be sitting in one of the orange plastic chairs, drinking his hot chocolate and eating his third granola bar of the evening, but Keith has never listened, and he's not about to_ _start now. He creeps along the corridor and sees Daryl – the nice policeman who brought him here – yelling at someone else._  

 _"I told_ _ya_ _, there's no record of his mother anywhere." The other man, who is fat and not kind-looking, scratches at his belly and stares at his computer_ _monitor_ _. "Kid's birth certificate isn't even real. She_ _musta_ _been one a_ _them immigrants, wanted to hide."_  

 _"What about a father?" Daryl's voice is angry now. Keith doesn't want Daryl to be angry, because Daryl gave_   _him food and hugged him and told him it was_ _going to be okay._  

 _"Jensen said he tried that number, and some guy answered but said he didn't want '_ _im_ _."_  

 _There is a silence while Keith chews his knuckle and tries to figure out what the fat man_   _means. His papa doesn't want him?_  

 _"He doesn't...want...his own son?" Daryl's voice is soft now, but still angry – in fact, it might be_ _angrier_ _than it was before. "What kind of..."_  

 _"Daryl, look, did you take a good look at that kid?" The fat man shifts in his chair and Keith can hear the plastic squeaking in protest. "He's trouble. He's mean, and shifty, and - " Something slams down on the table and Keith ducks even farther down._  

 _"How can you...he's_   ** _five_** _years old!"_  

 _"He_ ** _bit_** _Melissa on the way over here!"_ _Keith feels ashamed of that – he hadn't mean to bite her, she had just startled him. He'd said he was sorry and she'd petted his hair and said over and over that it was going to be alright._  

 _"He was_ ** _abandoned_** _! By himself, no food or water, not knowing if anyone was_ _gonna_ _come for him, for almost a week. He's scared, not dangerous."_  

 _There's the sound of shifting papers, and a computer powering down. Then the fat man sighs._  

 _"He's got no family. Children's Services will pick him up in an hour or so, they'll find somewhere for him. But I can tell you now, he's_ _gonna_ _be difficult to place." There's a long silence, and an ugly timbre creeps into the man's voice. "Unless_ **_you_** _wanna_ _take him, Daryl?"_  

 _"Hank, you know I can't." Keith's heart had jumped for just a second – a split second – at the idea of staying with this person who seemed so kind. Amazing how hope only needed to appear for such a short time to be crushed with such force. "We've got the baby coming in a month, we don't..." A sigh._  

 _"You'd better go tell him where he's_ _goin_ _', then."_  

Keith tastes copper in his mouth and realizes that he's worried his thumb between his teeth enough to break through the skin. He makes a face at the unpleasant sensation, then presses his thumb against a corner of the blanket to stem the bleeding. His cheeks are wet and he rubs his eyes miserably with the back of his hand, wishing that he didn't want Lance to come back and hug him.  

 _"Pack your things. They'll be here in an hour."_  

 _Same line, different home. This one's the...third? Fourth? He's losing track now. They're all the same – parents who smile too widely, three or four fucked up kids, tiny bedrooms, shitty food, different school every year or so. He tries so hard not to get attached, but sometimes..._  

 _"I didn't_ _do_ _nothin_ _'," he growls, ten years old and all teeth and nails. He's sporting a black eye and a split lip, and he looks clownish in his too-large hand-me-downs. "They were_ _bein'_ _mean to Daisy_ _an' I just told_ _Jax_ _to stop_ _." Daisy is the only reason he likes this place – a gentle, sweet golden retriever who sits with her head in Keith's lap and lets him pet her for hours._  

 _"What have we said before about blaming others for your actions?" Sheila, whom Keith has never called 'mom', crosses her arms and stares at him_ _coolly_ _._ _He's_ _been here for almost a year now, and he's been trying so hard. Keeping his head down at school, not fighting back when Trent shoves him into lockers, doing his homework..._  

 _"Please," he tries, feeling mortified by the tears that are starting to run down his cheeks. "I don't_ _wanna_ _move again. I like it here." It's not necessarily_ ** _here_** _that he likes, but he's sort of comfortable and he really, really doesn't want to start over again. And what if he ends up in a place like that last one? With the dad who...Keith shakes his head. He can't think about that._  

 _"You should have thought of that before you got into another fight," Sheila insists, gesturing to the door of the room he shares with two other boys._  

 _"I didn't want him to hurt Daisy," Keith begs, scrubbing at his face with the back of his hands. "I won't do it again, I promise."_  

 _"That's what you said last time," Sheila sighs, putting a hand between Keith's_ _shoulder blades_ _and forcing him into his room. "Now pack."_  

 _When his social worker comes to pick him up an hour later_ _, he clings to Daisy's neck and sobs into her fur, begging over and over to be allowed to stay._  

 _Two days later, he's in a new place, and when the mom tries to tell him that she's happy he's there, he ignores her and hides in his room. He's not getting attached again._  

The memory recedes but the emotions remain, and Keith feels his resolve hardening. He limps to the bathroom and washes his face, staring at his reflection and running a hand through his hair. When he climbs back into bed, he ignores the tears on his cheeks. He's not getting attached again.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the device that Pidge and Hunk is working on is kind of a hybrid between a hearing aid and a cochlear implant, improved 1000x by the powers of futuristic space tech. I have mixed feelings about cochlear implants in general, but I felt like it fit for the story. Also, Pidge is using a 3D printer which I'm sure will be much more advanced in space. :P


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pidge's device is ready, and Lance has to convince Keith that getting it put in won't be so bad. Keith continues to struggle with his feelings.

"Good news!" Pidge hops up onto the stool next to Lance, who is slumped over the counter with his head pillowed in his arms. He peers over at her as she nudges him with her foot.

"Wha'sup?" He yawns, covering his mouth with his sleeve. 

"You don't have to convince Keith to have surgery," she announces, spinning on the stool and grinning at Lance like a wild person. "I made it into nanobots." 

"Pidgeon, when's the last time you slept?" Lance tries not to sound patronizing, but he's obviously unsuccessful because she glowers at him. 

"One, I am not a child, and two..." She trails off for a moment, clearly calculating. "Two, that's irrelevant." She slides down from the stool and pops into the kitchen, tinkering with the 'sort of coffee machine' that her and Hunk built. Lance considers chastising her choice of beverage, but thinks better of it when she shoots him a look that says,  _I dare you_. 

She grabs two mugs, waggling one at Lance, who sighs and nods. He had a long night of absolutely no sleep. What he really wanted to do was go back to Keith's room, wrap that stubborn boy up in his arms, and fall asleep with him. Instead he'd woken up from bizarre dreams every few hours until eventually he'd given up on feeling rested. 

"Nanobots. That's...amazing," Lance says, remembering to respond to Pidge's initial statement. "You two are very..." He gestures inarticulately. "...with the science." Pidge snorts, passing him a mug of space coffee. It reminds Lance of the Nutri-Matic Drink Dispenser from "The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy" - it produces something almost, but not quite entirely unlike coffee. But it contains a caffeine-like stimulant, and that's what matters. 

"It's an injection just behind the ear," Pidge continues, pulling out her tablet and showing Lance the schematic. "It contains a pod of self-replicating nanobots that are programmed to create a receiver – like this." The image shows the inside of a human ear, with a thin wire travelling down the canal to the cochlea. "Once that part's finished – it takes a couple hours – then you attach the transmitter behind the ear and speech processor here, and voila!" 

"It looks like a brain worm," Lance says, wrinkling up his nose at the image. "And the idea of injecting nanobots anywhere sounds like the premise of a bad sci-fi film." Pidge huffs at him. 

"He probably won't even feel it," she grumbles, sipping from her mug. "I mean, he  _will_ feel the pod being injected. It'll hurt like a bitch. The rest is painless, though." 

"But he  _hates_ needles," Lance protests, sipping the space-coffee and making a face. He feels stupid, but every time he brings a mug to his mouth, he expects it to be  _real_ coffee, the way mama used to make it. He would probably give his left arm for a latte right now, but he avoids mentioning that fact around Shiro. Honestly, he's a little surprised that they haven't found a space equivalent of Starbucks yet.

"You two are the worst," Pidge mutters. "Just...kiss already." Lance feels his face flush, and he immediately changes the subject. 

"If we were back on Earth, you'd be winning awards for this kind of stuff," he says, gesturing to her tablet. "Do you think they do that in space? Like, the space Nobel prize?" Pidge rolls her eyes at him, then drains the rest of her not-coffee and puts the cup in the bin where dishes are miraculously washed and returned to their original drawer. 

"Go find Keith," Pidge says, grabbing her tablet and sauntering out of the room. "Tell him you have good news." 

* * *

Keith wakes up early after a terrible sleep and immediately wants to kill everything. This would usually be remedied by fighting the gladiator droids, but he can't do that because his ribs hurt like hell and his wrist is still kinda broken. He heads to the training deck anyway, figuring he can maybe review fighting styles and tactics instead. Anything to get him out of his room and his thoughts. 

When he looks through the training programs, he's pleasantly surprised to find one that involves throwing knives. The broken wrist is his off hand, so he runs the program and is excited to see a chest of differently-sized knives rise up from the ground. A target appears at the far end of the training deck, and he feels a slight vibration that probably means that the robotic voice is telling him to begin. 

It turns out that throwing knives is very different than stabbing things with them, and it takes him a couple hours to get used to finding the balance of the blade before throwing it. After a while the computer takes him up to a level with moving targets, and he's managed to take down quite a few of those when he sees the door open in his peripheral vision. 

He's both frustrated and relieved to see that it's Lance. He’s holding a mug in one hand, and he looks terrible. Dark circles ring his eyes, and his usually styled hair is messy and sticking up every which way. Keith feels a pang of guilt for kicking him out last night, but then he remembers.  _Don’t get attached._

“I’m feeling better.” It’s the only thing he can think of to say that rests in neutral territory. He turns off the program and drops the knife back into its slot in the chest. Turning back to Lance, he adds, “Thank you for…helping me.” He hopes that his voice is within normal range. Lance isn’t wincing, so its probably fine. 

_Coran says he_ _fixed_ _the healing pod,_ Lance signs with one hand.  _It should work now._ Keith sighs, running his good hand through his hair. It’s tangled and greasy and he realizes now that he should have probably had a shower before coming down here. 

“I’m fine,” he replies quietly. For some reason, the idea of going back in the pod makes him uneasy. 

_You can’t fight or fly with your wrist like that,_ Lance points out, and Keith sighs. He’s right, of course. 

“Can’t do that if I can't hear, either,” he grumbles, dropping his gaze to the floor. It’s been weird. Even if his hearing aids were kinda shitty, it was better than nothing. He feels so disconnected now. 

_Pidge says she has something, actually._ Lance sighs and sets the coffee mug down, freeing up his second hand to sign more smoothly.  _It's an._ _..implant_ _, I guess?_ _You can get it put in today._

Keith frowns, still uncomfortable with the idea of her  _knowing_ about him and doing this for him. What if it doesn’t work? What if he’s just irreparably broken now? What if they  _do_  kick him out, despite Lance assuring him it won’t happen? Where will he go? He knows that none of these fears make any sense, but he can’t stop his brain from exploring every possible horrible outcome.

There are a pair of hands on his forearms, suddenly, and Lance’s face is too close for comfort. Or maybe…not close enough. God, why can't he make up his goddamn mind? It's easy to harden his heart at night, in the darkness of his own room when he's alone with his memories. But here, during the day, when faced with Lance's soft smile, it's so much harder. 

_Stop_ _it_ _,_ Lance signs, releasing his arms. The signs are hard to read in the small space between them, but neither of them backs away.  _You’re freaking yourself out._ Keith huffs and crosses his arms as best he can around his splint. 

“I’m not…freaking out,” he argues, chewing on his lip. He just can’t help wondering what will happen if it doesn’t work? He’ll be no good to them, then. Useless as a paladin. 

_Dude, I’m the one who’s supposed to have anxiety,_ Lance signs, and his expression is gentle and teasing.  _If it doesn’t work, we’ll figure something out. Nobody’s going to make you leave._ Keith is starting to wonder if Lance is a secret mind reader.  _Coran needs to do the injection, but you should do the pod first._

“Injection?” Keith asks, making a face. 

_I know you hate needles, but it’ll be worth it._ Lance is giving him a  _look_ , and Keith is so frustrated that he can’t figure out what it means. Is it pity? Fondness? Lance takes a small step closer to Keith, and his hands hover uncertainly. He looks like he’s going to say something else, so Keith panics and jerks away from him. 

“Let’s get this over with, then,” he growls, and stalks out of the room. 

* * *

Lance sits next to the healing pod for the second time in as many days, watching Keith’s peaceful face as he sleeps through the process. He sighs, rubbing his face and sipping at his second cup of space coffee. 

“What was wrong with it?” He asks Coran, who is puttering around by the console again. The table in the center of the room has been set up with Pidge’s device, along with a bunch of…implements that make Lance shudder. 

“With what, my boy?” Coran looks up and Lance realizes that he, too, looks exhausted. Maybe they should all just take a vacation. 

“The…thingy,” Lance mumbles, gesturing up at Keith. “Pod. Something about DNA?” Coran looks uncomfortable for a few seconds, but the expression quickly passes and he smiles widely at Lance. 

“Just a malfunction,” he says easily, flipping through several screens. Lance tries to read some of them, but the text is all in Altean. “These things were out of commission for ten thousand years, so the occasional hiccup is to be expected! Don’t worry though, Keith will be fine in a few ticks.” 

Right on time, a soft beep and a hissing sound signals the end of the cycle, and the door slides open. Keith isn’t unconscious this time, but he’s still groggy enough to let Lance wrap an arm around his waist and help him over to the couch. 

_How do you feel?_ He doesn’t have to hide the signing from Coran now, since he’s the one who’s going to be helping with the implant. Lance can tell that Keith is getting increasingly frustrated by the number of people who know about this, but if he wants to hear again, it can't really be helped. 

"Ngggghh," Keith groans in response, leaning forward and putting his head between his knees. Coran moves towards them and looks at Lance to interpret for him. He crouches in front of Keith, ignoring the flinch when he touches the boy's face, and peers into both his eyes. 

"Do you feel nauseous?" Keith looks up at Lance and nods miserably. "Headache?" Another nod. "Alright, I'm going to keep you here for a couple vargas before we do the implant." Keith and Lance both frown at the same time. 

"What's wrong with him?" Lance demands, signing as he talks. "We're not usually sick after the pods." 

"Likely something in the recalibration," Coran replies, but his smile doesn't meet his eyes. Lance glares at him suspiciously, but the man has an excellent poker face. "Lance, I'd like you to go get some rest. Keith can sleep here so I can keep an eye on him, and if he's feeling better then we'll go ahead with everything when he wakes up." 

"I can sleep here too," Lance insists, feeling his cheeks grow warm. He has no idea if Keith wants him here – his behavior has been so erratic lately that it's hard to know what's going on in his head. 

"Nope, off you go to your own bed." Coran picks up Lance's cup of space coffee and begins to sip it. "This is mine now, young man. Kotzif is no substitute for sleep. Off with you." He waves a hand as Lance tries to protest. 

"Fiiiiiine," he groans, turning back to Keith, who is looking at him sleepily with a furrow between his brows.  _God he's pretty,_ Lance thinks, taking in those slightly purple eyes and the way Keith is pouting, just a bit. 

"What?" Lance jumps at Keith's question and realizes he's been staring. 

_Nothing,_ he signs.  _Coran's kicking me out. You're supposed to sleep for a bit._ Keith nods absently, slipping down on the couch until he's lying on his side. It looks uncomfortable, and before he can think about what he's doing, Lance slips off his jacket, folds it a few times, and slides it under Keith's head.  _Better?_

"Mmm," Keith replies, eyes already drifting shut. "Come back after? Don' like needles." Lance laughs, crouching down next to the bench. Keith's eyes are already closed, so he grabs the other boy's hand and squeezes it gently before standing up, stretching, and heading back to bed. 

* * *

 

Keith feels better when he wakes up, and he thinks it's partly to do with the jacket under his head. It smells like Lance – a sort of vaguely tropical scent that Keith can't name. He buries his face in it for a moment, then opens his eyes and pushes himself up into a sitting position. 

Coran is next to him almost immediately, handing him what looks like a computer tablet but with a text box in the center. 

_Feeling better?_ It reads. Keith nods, looking up at Coran, who begins to speak again and gestures down at the tablet. The words appear on the screen as the older man says them, and Keith blinks. It's really no different than the voice-activated tech on their phones back on Earth, but somehow this just seems...cooler. 

_Any pain?_ The tablet text reads.  _Nausea, dizziness?_ Keith shakes his head no to all of the questions, and Coran smiles at him.  _Up on the table then! We'll have to do the injection first, then wait a few hours to attach the external pieces._

Keith stands up, still holding onto the tablet. He frowns, looking at the door. 

"Lance?" He asks finally, feeling childish and vulnerable. Coran touches his shoulder gently, and Keith looks down at the tablet. 

_I can go find him._ Keith chews his lip, not sure if he's willing to go to those lengths to let Lance know that he wants him here. And what does he want him here for anyway? To hold his hand? He's eighteen goddamn years old, he doesn't need someone for this. He starts to shake his head when the door slides open and Lance saunters into the room. 

_Better?_ He asks as soon as he sees Keith. Keith nods, not making eye contact.  _Me too. Pretty sure I fell asleep on the way back to my room._

Keith gives him a half-smile, then hops up on the table, trying not to look at the tools that Coran is fiddling with. He sets the tablet down next to him and tries to take deep breaths. 

_It_ _'ll_ _only_ _hurt_ _a bit,_ Lance signs, stepping closer to Keith.  _The weird part is the nanobots._ _Pidge says y_ _ou_ _won't_ _feel it, but_ _the idea of it growing_ _in your EAR is_ _kinda_ _...freaky._

"You're really not helping," Keith says petulantly, and Lance looks apologetic. They're so close now, and Keith feels the back of Lance's hand brushing his. He's so torn. The  _don't get attached_ part of his brain is screaming at him to just shove Lance away from him, but the  _he saved my life and almost kissed me and said he'd never abandon me_ _and I think I'm_ _kinda_ _in love with him_ part says to just hold his damn hand already. 

_Is this helping?_ Lance signs one-handed while he threads his fingers through Keith's. Keith exhales softly, trying not to let Lance see how reassuring he's being.  _Coran's gonna start now. Want me to tell you what he's doing? Or talk about something else?_

"Something else, oh my god I do not need to know what is going on back there." Keith shivers as Coran pulls his hair back, and something cold presses behind his ear. 

_What's your favorite movie?_ Keith blinks, trying to remember the last time he watched one. The shack obviously didn't have a TV, and before that it was the garrison. And before that...his foster sister in the last home hadn't been too bad, and they'd had some movie nights together. 

"I dunno if I have a favorite," he admitted, trying not to pull away from whatever bit of metal was probing at his skin. "I liked 'Jaws'. And 'Rambo'." He sees Lance's face break into a silly grin and it does stupid things to his heart. "What about y-mother _fucker!"_ Lance grabs his shoulder and holds him steady as the stinging pain behind his ear becomes a dull throb. "What the fuck? You liar!" 

_I'm sorry,_ Lance signs, dropping his hand from Keith's shoulder. He looks contrite.  _If I told you how much it hurt you wouldn't have done it._ Keith is still breathing sharply out his nose, but he can't really be mad at Lance because he's  _right_. 

"God fucking...shitdamn," he grumbles, repressing the urge to reach up and touch the area. Coran moves over to his other side and he groans. 

_This is_ _kinda_ _like when my sister got her ears pierced, actually,_ Lance comments, grinning.  _Except t_ _hey had to do both at the same time because she was so freaked out._

"Getting my ears pierced didn't hurt nearly this much," Keith grumbles, trying to keep his breathing steady as Coran readies the second injection.  

_Oh my god, you_ _had pierced ears._ Lance is giving him this look that Keith once again can't read, but he can at least tell that it's not judgmental. He shrugs, reaching up and tugging on his ear where he knows there's still a few whitish scars in the cartilage. 

"I had a few, but I had to take them out for the Garrison," he says, then groans as the second sting pierces his skin. He grits his teeth – it's not as bad this time, but still doesn't feel great. A strange cooling sensation covers both wounds, and then Lance taps his arm. 

_Coran says you're all done, but you'll have to keep your hair up for a bit._ Keith nods, reaching into his pocket for an elastic and pulling his hair up into a ponytail. Lance's face goes red almost immediately, and Keith pretends not to notice. 

 

* * *

 

"..an ..u he.. .e?" Keith frowns at the disjointed sounds coming from Lance's mouth. Pidge is sitting next to him on the table, wires trailing from the attachment on his ear down to her computer. She adjusts something and Keith winces, the area still sore. Pidge gestures for Lance to say something again. "C..n yo. h..r me?" 

"A bit better," Keith says. "But I'm also reading your lips." Lance waggles his eyebrows flirtatiously at Keith, who rolls his eyes. Pidge shifts beside him, and he can feel her typing something else into her computer. He sighs, closing his eyes and rubbing his face with his hands. 

"How about now?" Keith snaps his eyes open and stare at Lance, who is grinning at him from the couch. "Better? Worse?" 

Keith's chest is tight, suddenly, because he realizes that until this moment, he's never really  _heard_ Lance's voice before. He's seen the way words shape on his lips, and heard the muffled, staccato sounds that it makes just like everyone else's, but he's never really  _heard_ it before. Not like this.

"Say something else," he whispers, and the grin on Lance's face transforms into a wide, wondrous smile. 

"It worked," he breathes, and Keith can  _hear him_ , even though his voice is quiet and he's sort of far away. "Is it too muffled? Too loud? Too soft?" His voice rises in pitch with each question, and Keith's heart is still stuttering in his chest. 

"It's...amazing," Keith replies, shaking his head a little and reaching halfway up to his ear before he catches himself and brings it back to his lap. "There's a bit of...lag, maybe?" 

"That's the speech processors getting used to how Lance talks," Pidge interjects, reaching over and adjusting the piece that rests on top of Keith's ear. Keith jumps at both the sound and the intrusion into his personal space. "The more you listen to someone, the easier it'll be to understand them." 

"Understanding Lance shouldn't be a problem, then, since he never shuts up." Keith grins, and Lance hops up off the couch and moves over toward the table. Pidge unclips the wires from behind Keith's ears, rolling them up around her hand. 

"Pidge, you are a technical wizard," Keith says, turning to look at her. She's got a proud grin on her face, and she gives him a miniature bow before she hops down from the table. 

"I know." She tucks everything under her arm, and Keith takes a deep breath, trying to figure out what to say to convey how  _incredible_ this is, how much he's missed just...hearing things. It's not perfect – he knows it won't ever be – but it's better than anything he's had so far. 

"Pidge, I...just..." Keith swallows, looking down at his hands. Lance is standing next to him, so close that he can feel the heat of the other boy's body through his thin t-shirt. "Thank you." It feels woefully inadequate, but he gets the feeling that she knows how grateful he really is. 

"It's nothing," she says airily, then grins at him. "But when we get back to Earth and I need someone to help me apply for research grants, you're gonna come with me so I can show off my handiwork." Keith laughs, the words making their way to him just moments after Pidge says them. 

"Deal," he replies, and she bows again, then practically  _skips_ out of the room. 

"She's amazing," Lance says, and Keith jumps because he forgot for a minute how close they were. Lance moves in a little, situating himself between Keith's legs and resting his hands on his denim-clad thighs. Keith swallows, exhaling sharply. 

"Th-thank you," he mumbles, resting his hands back against the medical bed and tipping his head back so he can see into Lance's eyes. He wants so badly to fall into them, to just let go of the sharp claws of his past that keep digging into him. 

"Am I making you uncomfortable?" Lance's voice is soft and Keith can  _hear_ the uncertainty in it, which is new. He considers the question for a moment, then shakes his head. "Good." Lance runs his hands gently up and down Keith's legs, and Keith can feel his face burning. 

"I just..." He hesitates, sitting up a little and bringing his hands to Lance's shoulders, resting them tentatively against the soft fabric of his t-shirt. "I don't..." 

"Keith." Lance brings one hand up to gently brush against Keith's cheek, and he shivers. "I know you've been through some shitty stuff." Keith drops his head – he'd forgotten that Lance knows. Knows about his parents leaving him, about the foster homes. Knows about Garret. "I know you don't trust people easily, so you might not believe me, but I promise I won't hurt you or leave you." 

Keith takes a shuddering breath, leaning forward to rest his forehead against Lance's chest. His hands drift downward to rest on Lance's hips, and the movement feels so intimate that he feels like he can't breathe. His brain screams,  _run away, run away as fast as you can._ His brain screams,  _stay, stay and let him_ _kiss_ _you._

"I'm safe," he mumbles after a moment, leaning back to look at Lance. One of his thumbs starts to draw circles on the skin above Lance's hipbone, and the taller boy exhales shakily. "I'm safe, and I'm conscious." Keith's cheeks are flushed and tingling with embarrassment but he pushes through it, refusing to run away again. "And I'm thinking clearly." 

"Yeah?" Lance chuckles breathlessly, and Keith wants to hear that sound again and again and again. "Are you asking me to try to kiss you again?" Keith can feel Lance's hands trembling against his legs. 

"Not try," he replies, making a soft sound as Lance brings a hand up to run his fingers gently along Keith's jaw. "I'm  _telling_ you...mmm...to kiss me." Those fingers continue into his hair, pulling out the tie and tugging down his dark locks. 

"Well," Lance murmurs, sliding one hand around Keith's back and tugging him closer, "if you insist." And when their lips finally press together, Keith can feel Lance's smile against his. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> /PSA Cochlear implants do not "cure" hearing loss. I do not believe in their use on children, or anyone who isn't old enough to make that decision for themselves. For those who lost their hearing at a later age, they can be somewhat effective, but nothing like this (especially without a LOT speech and language therapy). This is fiction in space, and I'm assuming space tech is advanced enough for this to be reality. /end PSA


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance and Keith start a tentative relationship, but when they find the Blade of Marmora's base, things might not ever be the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, this took me a month to write, good lord. Sorry about that. I am struggling with my own mental health stuff right now so it makes it challenging to write. 
> 
> Second, I had hoped to finish this fic before season 5 came out, which obviously didn't happen, so it's just all non-S5 compliant now. 
> 
> TW for this chapter include suicidal thoughts, brief mention of self-harm, and reference to past child sexual abuse.

After they kiss, Lance is petrified that Keith is just going to jump up and run away again, but he doesn’t. He rests his forehead against Lance’s, breathing shakily, and brings a hand up to the back of Lance’s neck, fingers playing with stray strands of hair. 

“Hey,” Lance murmurs, mirroring the gesture and dragging his fingertips along Keith’s scalp. Keith hums happily, pressing his head back into the sensation. 

“Hey.” His voice is a bit breathless, and he leans forward to press his face into the crook of Lance’s neck. Lance smiles, shifting slightly until Keith is wrapped firmly in his embrace. 

“You okay?” Lance asks, and Keith doesn’t answer, just huffs quietly against the skin of Lance’s neck. The feeling of air is quickly replaced by Keith’s lips trailing up his neck and behind his ear, and Lance melts into the sensation. He tips his head to the side and runs his hands down Keith’s back, exhaling softly. 

"Scared," Keith admits. He sounds vulnerable again, like he did when he was bleeding and bloody and cradled in Lance's arms. Lance runs his hands up to Keith's face and tilts his head back until they're looking at each other. 

"Of what?" Keith's cheeks are pink and his eyes are dark and sad, and Lance feels uncertainty welling up in his chest. What if this is a mistake? Does Keith really want this? Is he just making Keith uncomfortable and fucking up the team? 

"Trusting you," Keith says, so softly that Lance almost doesn't hear it. He notices that Keith is picking at his thumbnail nervously. "I don't...there's a lot of things that...you don't know. And..." Keith chews on his lip, muscles tensing under Lance's hands. "And I'm not great at talking. Or...knowing what other people need. And I'm just not the best-"

"Keith." Lance interrupts him with a gentle tug on his chin, forcing Keith to meet his eyes. "It's okay. We'll figure it out...if that's what you want." He pushes the hair back from Keith's face. "Is that what you want?" 

Keith swallows, closing his eyes. Lance watches the indecision flit across Keith's face and tries not to take it personally. He tries to remember the image of a five-year-old Keith left alone by his parents, or ten-year-old Keith bouncing between foster homes, or seventeen-year-old Keith getting the shit beat out of him by someone he cared about. It's not  _him_ that Keith doesn't trust, it's just...people in general. Which is one hundred percent fair and doesn't reflect at all on Lance as a person. Still.

"Yes." Keith opens his eyes and pins Lance with an intense gaze. He tugs on Lance's shirt a little and pulls him into another kiss – soft and slow and enough to make Lance weak at the knees. Keith breaks away after a moment and sighs. "You're a much better kisser than Garret," he says, quirking an eyebrow in a shy attempt at humor. 

"Well, I should hope so," Lance retorts, lacing his fingers behind Keith's neck and grinning. "He's an idiot. I am not." 

"Most of the time," Keith amends, and Lance rolls his eyes. Keith yawns, suddenly, and he looks like it caught him off guard. He rubs his eyes blearily, then sighs. "I'm...really tired. It's been..." He trails off and Lance helps him down from the bed. 

"A long day," Lance finishes for him, nodding his head towards the door. "Want me to walk you to your room?" Keith nods shyly, not meeting Lance's gaze, and doesn't protest when Lance grabs his hand and twines their fingers together. He's silent the whole walk back to his room, and only really looks at Lance once they're standing outside his door. 

"Thank you," he says softly, reaching up and touching the implant tucked under his hair. "I'm...sorry I didn't tell you." Lance smiles, exhaling softly. 

"If it was me...I don't know if I would've told anyone either," he admits. He reaches out and pushes some stray strands of hair out of Keith's face. "I know I made you upset yesterday. I said something...that made you mad, about us being your family. Is that...can we talk about that? Or is that like, off limits?" 

Keith sighs, rubbing a hand over his face. 

"It's...I'm sorry I snapped." He looks contrite, shoulders hunched and gaze on the floor. "Lots of people have...promised that they won't leave. And they lied. " He crosses his arms, then brings one hand up to touch the skin above his collarbone. "I want to...believe you." His words are thick, Lance can hear the beginnings of tears behind them. "I want to feel like this is my family. I'm just...I don't know if I could handle losing you guys." 

He brings the hand up to cover his face, and Lance pulls him into a hug, tapping the keypad to open Keith's room. Lance leads Keith to the bed and sits down beside him, arm wrapped around his shoulders and lips pressed to his forehead. 

"I'm sorry that I don't understand," Lance admits, thinking of his family back home. He can't even begin to imagine them leaving him, and it makes him admit that he has zero idea how Keith actually feels. "If I say something stupid or insensitive, tell me, okay?" Keith nods behind his hands, sniffling and wiping at tears. 

Lance gently guides Keith down onto the bed, tugging at the blankets and pulling them over him. He can see Keith's shoulders relax almost immediately, and he smiles faintly as he combs back the messy black hair. 

"You're supposed to take them off to sleep," Lance reminds him, gesturing at his ear. Keith grumbles and reaches up, slipping the small discs off and setting them on the bedside table. He looks up at Lance and gestures to the empty spot on the bed next to him. Lance looks at him cautiously.  _You sure?_

"Just shut up and come here," Keith grumbles, and Lance is quick to obey, curling up behind Keith and resting a tentative hand on his hip. He notices Keith tense under his fingers, so he grabs his arm instead, pulling it around his stomach and leaning back against Keith's chest. It's not long before they're fast asleep. 

 

* * *

 

When Keith is reunited with the rest of the team, he feels shy and overwhelmed. He had sort of hoped that the uncomfortable anxiety he gets when interacting with people would just disappear because he can hear now, but he's disappointed to find that it hasn't really changed. Shiro is the first one to see him as he enters the bridge, and he rushes over, pulling the shorter boy into a firm embrace. 

"Don't ever do that again," Shiro says, relief evident in his voice. "That was stupid and reckless, and you scared the hell out of everyone." Keith's cheeks start to burn, but Shiro holds him out at arm's length and gives him a strange look. "That said, I'm really proud of you, Keith. You might be an idiot, but you're a brave idiot." 

"And you're  _our_ idiot," Hunk adds, smiling warmly at Keith. The familial tone to the statement has Keith stiffening, but he tries to remember Lance's assurances that nobody here is going to leave him. Or make him leave. Now he just needs to be honest with everyone. 

"There's, um, something I need to tell you, Shiro." Keith's whole face is flooded with heat now, but he locks eyes with Lance, who has moved over to stand with Hunk and Pidge. Lance gives him an encouraging smile. "And Allura, too." They all look at him curiously, and he swallows thickly before continuing. "I've been hiding something from you..." 

Once he starts, the words rush out of him, and a feeling of relief washes over him as he speaks. When he's finished, Shiro hugs him again, and Allura places a hand on his shoulder. 

"Thank you for telling us," she says gently, giving him what he thinks is a genuine smile. Lance flashes him a thumbs-up from his position over by his console. 

"We would  _never_ make you leave," Shiro assures him. Keith averts his gaze. Shiro knows a little about his life before the Garrison – bits and pieces, probably enough to figure out some things. "You're family." There's that damn word again. Keith tries hard not to flinch, but the look on Shiro's face tells him that he's unsuccessful.

After that, things to back to normal – whatever that means. They keep fighting the Galra, he keeps piloting Red, they keep forming Voltron. Saving people is actually pretty rewarding, and Keith cherishes the flood of adrenaline that he gets from flying and fighting and winning.

Things with Lance are…good. They don’t say anything to the team, but they sneak kisses and hand-holding and gentle touches in where they can. They bicker less and have each other’s backs, and Shiro even comments on how their improved attitudes are helping the team. Keith is still anxious a lot, and it reminds him of that feeling he’d get whenever he moved to a new foster home and he would just wait for something bad to happen. But a month goes by on the ship and nothing goes horribly wrong, and he starts to slowly feel more comfortable with the team.

He actually has conversations with Hunk and Pidge when she adjusts his implants every week. It’s awkward and painful at first, but eventually he starts to look forward to it. Pidge is smart and funny, and she tells him about the pranks that her and Matt used to play when they were younger, and what her father was like. Her voice gets sad when she talks about them, and Keith wishes that he knew what to say. Instead he just nudges her ankle with his and lets her lean her head against his shoulder. Hunk talks about his mom and the beach and the rainforest within walking distance of their house. Keith doesn’t share much about himself, but they don’t seem to mind.

Shiro asks him to spar one afternoon, and Keith is apprehensive because he’s got this worry in the back of his mind that Shiro is actually angry at him for not telling him about the hearing thing sooner. It ends up being a great workout – except for Keith taking a prosthetic fist to the face – and they’re both lying on their backs on the training deck, sweating and panting and covered in bruises, when Keith speaks up. 

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you earlier." Shiro rolls into a sitting position and gives him a soft look, but Keith remains starfished on the floor. "I'm...just bad at this. The talking stuff." He brings an arm across his chest and begins to scratch the skin on the inside of his wrist. "It's just...hard to...and I want to be here...and I didn't..." And fuck, now he's crying, and Shiro is tugging him up to sit next to him. "I didn't want to be a burden." 

He brings a hand up to cover his face and Shiro pulls him into a hug, arms forming a protective barrier around him. Keith huddles into the embrace and shudders, trying to keep himself in control. He can’t tell Shiro that his “death” was the worst of all, and that even though it wasn’t something anyone could control, it threw Keith’s life into disarray. He can’t tell Shiro that the day after he heard the news, Keith had ended up in the hospital with a broken arm and a broken jaw and a broken heart, and he’d wanted so badly to just take every single painkiller they’d given him at the same time so that it just didn’t fucking _hurt_ anymore.  

"I'm not mad," Shiro says finally, the words rumbling in his chest. "I'm sorry I couldn't be more...supportive, I guess." Keith sighs, shaking his head. "I think all we can do as a team is prove to you that we care about you and love you." 

Keith nods as his tears slow, but he doesn't pull away from Shiro. Lance's soft touches and kind words and gentle kisses are  _changing_  him, and it makes him feel like maybe it's okay to just take comfort from the man that he's always wanted to be his big brother. 

"I got used to being alone," he whispers after a moment, and Shiro makes a sad sort of sound. "It was okay then, 'cause it was just me, but now I know what it's like and I don't want to...to lose this." 

"I'm sorry."

People have been saying that a lot, lately. Everyone’s sorry, and maybe this is just one of those things that Keith doesn’t understand because his brain is different or something, but he doesn’t really get what they’re sorry for. It’s not like any of them could have done anything. They couldn't have made his parents stay, or stopped the sickening touches from his foster father, or forced Garret and his friends to stop beating him.

_Don’t be so literal,_ Lance signs later that night, one-handed, while brushing his teeth. Keith frowns at him, already tucked under the blankets and shivering in his thin pajamas. They’ve given up the pretense of sleeping in separate rooms now, which has led to many suggestive comments from Pidge. Keith tries to ignore them because it forces him to face the fact that he and Lance haven’t…done anything. Lance doesn’t seem to mind, which is great because there is no way in hell that Keith is letting him see the hundreds of white scars across his thighs. Still, he feels guilty, like he's this malfunctioning, broken person and Lance deserves someone whole.  

“Ow!” A slipper comes flying and smacks him in the forehead, and he glares up at Lance. 

_You were zoned out!_ He signs innocently, and Keith rolls his eyes, throwing the slipper back with enough accuracy that Lance is unsuccessful in his dodging attempts and takes it right in the stomach. 

“Come to bed,” he grumbles, burrowing deeper under the blankets. Lance is like a furnace, and Keith is embarrassed to admit that he clings to him at night, legs tangled, arms wrapped around him, face buried in his neck. Lance loves it, though, and slides under the blankets with him, pulling him tight. A rumble in his chest is probably a  _good night_ , and Keith stays up for hours listening to the soft, even cadence of Lance's breath. 

 

* * *

 

Everything goes to shit when they find the Blade of Marmora. 

In hindsight, things had been going  _too_ well, and Lance was due for a stroke of bad luck. That’s how it’s always worked for him – a scoreboard in his head, good on the left and bad on the right. Too much stuff piled on the left side meant the right got jealous and then bad things started happening. He knows it’s superstitious but his brain can be very persuasive when it wants to be. 

_We don’t have to get up yet,_ he complains as Keith tries to sit up. Lance wraps an arm around his waist and pulls him back down, leaning on him enough to keep him from getting out of bed. He gives Keith a look that’s part seductive, part pout, and Keith rolls his eyes. 

“You’re ridiculous,” he grumbles sleepily, rubbing his face, but he doesn’t argue. He shuffles back under the blankets and lets out a soft, pleased sound when Lance starts to run a hand over his stomach. “But you  _are_ warm.” 

Keith’s eyes are closed so Lance doesn’t bother replying, just leans over and kisses Keith’s neck, running his tongue up behind the other boy’s ear. Keith lets out a low moan – Lance finds he’s noisier when he doesn’t have the implants in and can’t be self-conscious about how he sounds – and tips his head to the side. Lance grins, moving his hand from Keith’s stomach to rest on his hip as he slides a leg up and straddles the shorter boy. 

"Lance," he whispers softly, running his hands up the taller boy's thighs and sighing softly at the feeling of Lance's lips on his throat. Lance dips his fingers under the waistband of Keith's pants, testing the waters, but once again Keith tenses up and shakes his head. Lance removes his hand immediately and brings it up to the safer territory of Keith's chest. It doesn't bother Lance – he doesn't need sex to be happy – but he's unsettled by the fact that Keith's reluctance seems to be driven by fear and not inexperience. 

The announcement rings through the castle just as Lance is dragging his teeth along Keith's jaw, and it's loud enough that Keith opens his eyes and scowls. Lance laughs, pressing one last kiss to his neck before sliding out of bed and rummaging around for his clothes. 

"Did she say we're there?" Keith asks, fingers slipping the thin discs behind his ears. He frowns as he adjusts to the sound again – he tried to explain it to Lance as surfacing after being underwater for a long time. It's an analogy that Lance can get behind, having spent most of his childhood in the ocean. 

"Mmm," he responds, tugging a shirt over his head and running fingers through his hair. "She's just calling us to the bridge, not the lions." Keith nods, glancing at the bracelet that wraps around his left wrist. Pidge programmed it to vibrate and then convert the shipwide announcements to text for when Keith doesn't have his implants in. 

They make their way to the bridge, picking up Hunk along the way, and when they finally get there, an incredible sight greets them. 

"Is that a black hole?" Hunk gasps as they stare out the viewscreen at the strange shape. Lance feels like he should be slightly more overwhelmed by the sight, but a couple of months in space has really put impressive things like this into perspective. 

"No, no, no," Coran replies flippantly, punching in numbers and flipping through the screens. "It's  _two_ black holes and a giant blue star." 

"That's...not better," Hunk grumbles, and then runs off to discuss technicalities of black holes and other celestial objects with Pidge. Lance notices Keith gripping the back of one of the seats tightly enough to make his knuckles white. 

"You okay?" He whispers, moving up and brushing his hand lightly across Keith's. They aren't usually affectionate in front of the rest of the team, but he just looks so...distressed. Keith makes a strange, half-reassuring, half-distressed noise, but doesn't reciprocate Lance's touch.  

A debate starts between the paladins about whether or not to enter the base, and it quickly turns into an argument when Keith starts yelling. Lance is at a loss for what to do. The dark-haired boy was so soft this morning, so sweet and pliant beneath Lance's fingers, and now he's all hard edges and dark eyes. What is going  _on_ here? 

"Two may enter. Come unarmed." 

Lance's stomach twists uncomfortably when Shiro picks Keith to travel with him, and for once it's not because he's jealous. He makes a scene that causes Keith to glare at him, but he can't shake this feeling that Keith is going  _looking_ for something on that base. He's almost certain that something bad is going to happen and the anxiety in him is ramping up until there's this buzzing in his head that he can't shake. 

When Keith and Shiro exit the bridge, he stands in indecision for a moment, then turns and runs after them. They haven't gotten far, and Lance grabs Keith's wrist. The shorter boy turns to him, surprise and anger on his face. 

"Just let it  _go_ already," Keith hisses, trying to tug his wrist out of Lance's grasp. Lance studies his face carefully and can see fear and sadness under the fury. He sighs, pulling Keith towards him and into a hug. Keith stiffens against him, but when Lance kisses his temple he relaxes into the embrace. "I'm sorry," he mumbles. 

"Just be safe," Lance whispers, leaning their foreheads together. "Don't do anything stupid." Keith snorts, fingers tightening on Lance's waist. 

"No promises," he says, then presses a quick kiss to Lance's cheek and bolts down the hallway after Shiro. 

After that, waiting is almost unbearable. Lance paces the bridge furiously, running his hands through his hair and flopping down in one of the seats. 

"Relax," Pidge says, not unkindly. "Your boyfriend's gonna be fine." Lance is too worried to sputter or protest her choice of words, and he is unfazed by the knowing that look that passes between Pidge and Hunk. 

"The Red Lion is moving!" Allura shouts suddenly, and Lance bolts up in his seat.  _Fuck,_ he knew something bad was going to happen, why the hell did he ever...

"We gotta get down there!" He insists, nails digging into his palms. Hunk shakes his head sadly, gesturing at the screen in front of him, and Lance groans. He can feel heat behind his eyes and he shakes his head firmly, willing himself not to cry. Not now. 

The next five minutes seem like an eternity, and Lance is convinced that his heart is going to beat so fast that he'll just up and have a heart attack, right here on the bridge. But then Coran is shouting something, and starting a countdown...

"Five...four...three...two...one..." 

And there's Red, soaring out from between the black holes, safe and mostly unscathed. Lance lets out a breath, listening to everyone's cheers, then turns to the door and begins to run toward Red's hanger. 

He gets there just as they're leaving Red – Keith, Shiro, and some Blade guy that Lance really doesn't give a shit about right now. All he can see is Keith, and that he's injured. He's gripping his arm tightly and grimacing, and his face is covered with scratches and bruises. 

"Keith!" He shouts, ignoring Allura's tense interaction with the Blade member off to the side. Keith's eyes snap up to him, but all Lance can see in them is anger and pain. He tries to reach out, to help him get to the infirmary, but Keith tears away from him like he's been burned.  

"Don't touch me," he growls, breathing shakily and wiping furiously at his eyes. Lance feels a weight settling in his stomach as he thinks  _no, please, don't do this again, we've come so far,_ _please let me help you._

"Keith..." He says gently, holding his hands in front of him non-threateningly. He can feel Pidge and Hunk's curious glances behind him, but he ignores them, focusing only on Keith's terrified, battered face. "What happened? You look hurt, we need to get you to a-"

"I don’t need anything," Keith snaps. He shrinks even further into himself, clutching his injured arm tightly against him. "Leave me alone." 

"Kei-" Shiro turns to try and intervene, but Keith snarls at him and backs up even further, shuffling in the direction of the door. 

"I said LEAVE ME ALONE!" He shouts. Lance can  _feel_ his heart breaking. What happened? Why won't Keith let him help? Why is he so...

"Please don't do this," he whispers, but Keith's face doesn't change and Lance isn't sure if it's because he didn't hear him or he's ignoring him. He's almost made his way to the door and Lance realizes now that there's nothing he can do. 

"Don't," Keith whispers, taking a shaky breath. He looks directly at Lance and a flicker of guilt and regret crosses his face, but it's quickly replaced by anger. "Stay away from me. I don't need you." 

"I need  _you_ ," Lance protests, bunching his hands into fists. He sees indecision flit across Keith's face, but it hardens and he looks to the floor. 

"I don't care." And then he's gone, running down the hallway, and Lance drops to his knees on the floor as everything comes crashing down around him. 


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith finds out he's Galran and does what he does best - runs away. Lances tries his best not to let him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for self-injury and suicidal thoughts. 
> 
> So I know I haven't updated in forever, sorry about that! My writing for other fandoms kind of took over my life. 
> 
> When I started writing this it was pre-s5, so we didn't know Keith's mom's name, but now we do so I went back and retconned it to 'Krolia' instead of 'Krelvak' (I had the first two letters right!). 
> 
> All the "Galran" is a mix of invented languages, including Catharese (cat people from Star Wars).

Keith runs. He runs and runs and runs because that’s all he’s good for, really, is running away from his problems. Lance’s heartbroken face is burned into his retinas and he closes his eyes, trying to forget it as tears stream down his face. 

 _Fuck_. He’s desperate for it to not be true but he knows deep down that it is, that he’s part…them. Part monster. Because something’s always been a little bit wrong with him, a little bit strange and violent and unrelenting. He’s dangerous. Electric. Can’t get too close to people or he’ll tear them to shreds and that’s why Lance needs to stay away, even though all Keith wants is to pull him close. 

When he finally stops running he’s in some area of the castle he’s never explored before, which isn’t unheard of because this place is incredibly big. Nothing looks familiar and he doesn’t care because he just throws himself in a corner and pulls his knees up to his chest and cries until he’s so worn out he can barely breathe. It still aches. He tugs the blade from his belt again, holds it up and examines the symbol. The curse. 

“FUCK!” He screams, throwing the knife across the room and hearing the satisfying  _thud_ as it hits the far wall. He throws his bayard too, for good measure, and then digs his fingernails into his palms so hard they start to bleed. It feels good, like exhaling, like a release, and before he can stop himself he’s standing, grabbing the blade, tugging off his jacket, drawing the sharp edge across the skin of his arm. 

 _Oh_. The tension starts to drain from him as the blood drips down his arm and over his fingers, and he drops to his knees, dragging the blade across his skin again. It’s a perfect ache, a sting that takes the panic and shoves it behind layers and layers of guilt and self-loathing. Again and again, until it’s all red and his jeans are stained and the floor has drops of red everywhere. Keith can’t bring himself to care because it’s not like somebody will find this room anyway. 

The blood keeps dripping and he stars at it dully, wrestling with indecision. Does he let it keep going? Should he lie down and accept it and leave this anger and hatred behind? But then Lance’s face fills his mind, face soft and pleading, and he snarls, cursing as he looks around for something to stem the bleeding. 

* * *

Lance can’t breathe. The Blade delegate is still meeting with Allura, but Shiro has pulled Lance away from the room, back into the dining area, and sat him down at the table. 

“What happened?” Lance asks, voice hoarse and shaky, hands in his hair, eyes wide and full of tears. “He was…he’s not…” 

“He’s one of them,” Shiro replies carefully, grabbing Lance a glass of water and setting it in front of him. “He took their trials. That knife he has, it’s one of theirs.” 

“Keith’s…a Galra?” Lance’s voice is disbelieving and he ignores the glass as he looks up at Shiro, brow furrowed. “That’s not…he’s from Earth. The Galra haven’t been to Earth.” He takes a few shaky breaths. “And he…he doesn’t look like them.” 

“I don’t know how it works,” Shiro says quietly, and Lance is having a difficult time reading him. Is he angry? Disappointed? Confused? It’s impossible to tell. “He passed their trials and activated the blade. He’s got Galra blood in him somehow.” 

“Fuck,” Lance whispers, running his fingers through his hair again. “He’s gonna think we hate him. We have to find him.” 

“I think we need to give him time,” Shiro says carefully, and Lance shoots him a look. 

“You think he’s dangerous.” It’s not a question. Shiro hesitates for a second, then meets Lance’s gaze. 

“I don’t think he’s dangerous. He’s practically my brother.” Shiro chews his bottom lip, tapping his fingers on the table. “But he’s unstable right now, and we don’t know what kind of…changes that blade might have activated. We’ve seen what the Galra can d-“

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Lance snarls, pushing himself away from the table and standing. “Keith could never hurt us and you know it.” Shiro has the decency to look guilty. “He’s already terrified of us abandoning him, how do you think he feels now? We have to find him.” 

“You’re right,” Shiro sighs, rubbing his temples with his human hand. “We shou-“ 

He’s interrupted by an alert blaring on the announcement system. 

“Warning: Unauthorized shuttle departing from docking bay C.” Lance’s eyes widen and before Shiro can react, he’s already leaving the room, running toward Blue’s hangar faster than he thought possible. “Repeat: Unauthorized shuttle departing from docking bay C.” 

* * *

 

Lance follows him. Of course he does. He's fast, but luckily Keith is faster, even in this crappy little shuttle that doesn’t fly nearly as smoothly as Red. He would never take Red – the others still need to form Voltron after all, and they’ll find a new red paladin. He left his bayard behind, he’s sure they’ll find it. 

The controls of the shuttle are awkward under his hands but he navigates it expertly, just like he’s always done. His shoulder aches, and so does his forearm, bandaged sloppily with the shuttle’s first aid kid. His Galra blade is still in its sheath on his back, testament to a legacy he doesn’t want. 

“Keith, what the hell are you doing?” Lance’s voice comes through the shuttle’s speakers, crackling and popping. “You don’t need to run. Please come back.” Keith struggles with indecision, but in the end, he can’t resist answering. Even if he’s a monster, he still cares about Lance. 

“I can’t,” he says quietly, swerving to avoid some sort of debris as he approaches the nearest planet. It’s inhabitable by humans, but he’s only using it as a decoy until he loses Lance. After that he’s going back to the Blade. He needs to know where he comes from. "I'm not like you." 

"Yes you  _are_ ," Lance insists, dodging along behind him. Part of Keith wants to listen to him, wants to stop running and turn around and let him make everything okay. But he can't. Not anymore. Not like this. He runs his tongue over his teeth as if expecting sharp canines to pop out. "You're not a monster, you're just...you're just a boy." Keith exhales sharply. 

"I'm one of  _them_ ," he insists, thinking of Zarkon and all the nameless, faceless soldiers they've killed up until now. He's one of them. One of the enemy. "Just let me go. Please." 

"I can't," Lance insists, and Keith can hear tears in his voice. They swerve through some more debris – they're breaking atmosphere now, heading down to the surface of the planet where Keith knows there are canyons that Blue won't fit into. "Please, Keith, I care about you." Fuck, Lance isn't even pretending that it's the team that wants him back – just him, pleading. Keith's hands tighten on the controls. "I need you." 

 _Goddamnit_ , Keith thinks, squeezing his eyes shut tightly.  _Why does this have to be so hard?_ Before he can change his mind, he whips around, firing several warning shots across Blue's nose. Lance lets out an undignified yelp and Keith's heart crumbles. 

"I told you, I don't care," he chokes out, certain his words don't sound sincere. 

"That's bullshit," Lance argues, dodging the next few blasts from the shuttle. Its guns are weak – defensive addons that Pidge installed that don't pack much of a punch. "That's bullshit and you know it. We care about you – I care about you. Come back, please." 

Keith shakes his head, even though he knows that Lance can't see it. His arms stings and he uses the pain to remind himself that this is what he has to do. He flips back around – they're close enough now that he can almost dive into the canyons. 

"I can't," he says, voice breaking as he puts his hand over the speaker controls. "Goodbye, Lance." Then he turns off the incoming transmissions and dives deep, deep down into the earth where he knows Lance can't follow. 

* * *

They look for Keith, but he's too good at staying hidden. The tracking device on the shuttle is found on the planet's surface, easily removed, and the ship is found several planets later, sold to a parts shop in the desert. Lance checks his incoming messages every day, hoping that maybe Keith will send him a sign that he's alive, even if it's encrypted and from a million light years away, but every day his inbox is empty. 

Eventually Lance becomes the red paladin, which is bittersweet. Red shares in his grief and they sit together, passing memories back and forth of a dark-haired boy with a rare smile and a passionate heart. Lance misses Blue, he misses Keith, he feels wrong and mismatched and desperate. Everyone tries to comfort him, but nothing fills the space inside where Keith used to be. 

Lance tries to focus on their mission. They've been working with the Blade, now – joint missions and rescue ops, and it's been going well. Kolivan, their main point of contact, is currently up on the vidscreen in the control room, and Allura is talking to him about something boring. Lance tunes it out until Kolivan begins to speak to someone offscreen. 

"Cub," he says, beckoning someone over. "Do you not wish to see your old team?" A muffled voice says something in the background and Lance's heart jumps. Kolivan looks exasperated.  _"" _ he says in Galran.  _"" _

 _""_  the other voice grumbles, but reluctantly steps into view of the vidscreen, refusing to look up. Holy shit, it's Keith. His hair is a bit longer and he's wearing the same bodysuit as Kolivan, but it's definitely Keith. 

"You're alive!" Lance shouts, and Allura gives him a disapproving glare but doesn’t say anything. "Holy shit, Keith, you asshole, I hate you so much right now." Anger wells up in him, and he ignores the gentle touch of Hunk's hand on his arm. "We've been looking for you for  _months!"_

"I told you not to!" Keith snaps, looking up and glaring at Lance. As soon as their eyes meet Keith's expression softens, and Lance can feel the pain and confusion radiating from him. "I belong here. Let it go." 

Lance doesn't have a chance to argue because Allura interrupts and they start talking strategy again. They're going up against Zarkon now – all their allies, all their victories, it's all culminating in a giant attack that's going to (hopefully) take him down. Lance knows he's supposed to pay attention to the plan but he can't – all he can do is stare at Keith, who pointedly avoids his gaze. 

"Keith," he says as they wrap up their call. The dark-haired boy finally looks at him, face guarded. "Stay safe, okay?" Keith nods shortly, then glances over at Kolivan. 

 _"" _ he whispers. "See you on the other side." 

* * *

It’s only once Keith is dying that he realizes what a colossal fucking idiot he’s been. 

He’d been bracing for impact when Lotor showed up and took down the shield, which is both a good thing and a terrible thing. On the plus side, Keith doesn’t have to crash into a Galran battle cruiser, which he imagines would have hurt like hell. On the other hand, Lotor’s giant purple space laser has pretty much cut Keith’s ship in half, and he is now drifting through space with a chunk of metal halfway through his stomach, which he can confirm does hurt like hell. 

“Keith! You did it!” He hears Shiro cheering at him through his helmet (which he managed to activate before he was flung into the cold vastness of space). The rest of the team is shouting and whooping, and Keith wants to answer but the only thing that comes out of his mouth is a pained grunt. 

“Keith?” This time it’s Lance’s voice, and Keith thinks,  _fuck_. The pain is spreading through his abdomen and his suit is ripped, and he knows he doesn’t have long. 

“I-I…I’m…s-s-sor…ry,” he manages, before letting out an undignified cry of pain. 

“Keith!” Lance’s voice is panicked now, an edge of terror to his words. The other teammates are calling for him too, their words blending together in a cacophony of…concern.  _Fuck_ , Keith thinks again. _I’m an idiot. I fucked it all up and I’m going to die and I thought I was ready but I’m not._  

“Shiro, I’m going to get him,” Lance says, and when Shiro makes a sound that might be protest, Lance’s voice gets angrier than Keith has ever heard. “I. Am. Going. To. Get. Keith.” 

The next thing Keith knows, Red is hovering in front of him, and Lance is grabbing him gently, pulling him inside the lion and cradling Keith in his arms as gravity pulls them to the ground. Keith cries out, and Lance make a soft noise of comfort. 

“You fucking idiot,” Lance whispers, lying Keith down on the floor and running his hands uncertainly over the jagged piece of metal that protrudes from Keith’s stomach. He reaches up and finds the button to remove Keith's helmet.

“…a-al-ready k-knew…that,” Keith wheezes, and then he squeezes his eyes closed because it hurts so fucking much, and he’s crying. 

“Shut up,” Lance says, and his voice is rough. He lays his trembling hand on Keith’s face, reaching over him for the medkit stored behind the seat. “You’re gonna be fine.” 

“I…I d-don’t…th-think…s-so,” Keith grinds out, tears streaming down his face, and he grabs Lance’s hand feebly. Lance twines their fingers together. “I’m…s-so…s-orry. I d-do…c-c-care.” He squeezes Lance’s hand hard as another wave of pain rips through him. 

“I know,” whispers Lance, and he’s crying too, and then he’s talking into his helmet. “It's really bad. How long for Coran to get the castle here?” The answer isn’t a good one, Keith realizes, as Lance’s face twists in frustration and anger. “Well then find a healing pod somewhere else!” 

"'s too...late," Keith whispers, because he's died once before and he knows what it feels like, and he's almost out of time. Lance shakes his head angrily, hands trying to stem the flow of blood. Keith coughs and winces and tastes a sharp tang of copper, and then blood is trickling down the side of his face. 

"You can't," Lance says, voice thick and angry. "We need you. I need you." His face is a twisted confusion of terror and grief. “FIND A FUCKING POD!” He yells into his helmet, and Keith has never heard him speak to anyone like that before. 

“L-lance…” he whimpers, trying to reach for the other boy but finding his arms too heavy to move. He shudders and gasps and holy hell it hurts so much. 

“Keep your eyes open, Keith,” Lance whispers, stroking the side of his face and leaving a trail of blood behind. “Look at me. Y-you’re gonna be okay.” It’s clear in Lance’s eyes that he doesn’t believe his words, and tears are spilling relentlessly down his cheeks. “Please.” 

Suddenly, there’s an incoming transmission, and a video pops up of…is that the Galra from that ice planet where they almost died? Keith thinks maybe the blood loss is making him delirious, but Lance stares at her in confusion as well. 

“Krolia?” He asks, voice catching. “What do yo-”

“I have a healing pod,” she says, voice authoritative. “I’m not an enemy and my ship is nearby. Bring him here.” Keith’s vision is starting to blur, and he can’t see the expression on Lance’s face. 

“Why should I tru-”

“You know why I want him safe,” she interrupts again. Keith, feeling his breathing grow shallower. What is she talking about? Lance’s hands shift on his stomach and he cries out in pain. 

“Lance, what are you doing?” Shiro’s face is there now, expression carefully neutral. “You don’t know her and you can’t trust her.” 

“I mean the cub no harm,” she insists, and Lance nods in agreement. 

“She’s not an enemy, Shiro,” he insists, reaching up with one hand to Red’s controls. “And I don’t have a choice. He’s not going to m-make it without h-healing.” Keith makes a soft whining sound that he can believe is coming from his mouth. The more he stares at the woman’s image, the more he feels…trusting. Comforted. 

“Lance, you can’t just make these decisions on your own!” Shiro looks frustrated, and Lance snarls at him. 

“I’m not going to let him die.” Red starts to move and Keith groans at the vibrations that run through him. “You can lecture me later, once Keith is safe.” Then he closes the comm link with Shiro and turns to Krolia. “We’re on our way.” 

* * *

“ __” Krolia says softly, and Lance glances over at her. “Stupid cub. You were always so reckless.”

Lance pauses for a second, wondering if he can even pretend to be surprised, before stepping forward and resting his hand over the glass. The healing pods here are horizontal, and Keith's hair pools around the back of his head as the soft lights pulse around him. 

"You're his mother." Lance's words don't hold the judgement he expected, just a resignation of knowledge he's had for a long time. Krolia flinches a little, and Lance notices that her ears are pressed back against her head. He used to have a cat that did the same thing when she was angry or scared.

"Yes," Krolia finally says, blinking a few times and balling her hands into fists. Lance can see it now – the shape of her eyes, the way she doesn't know what to do with her hands, the hair that trails down the back of her neck. "I thought he was dead." 

"Nah, he just has massive trust issues because you left him him," Lance says blithely, then glances down at his wrist. Shiro's gonna be here soon, and Lance is one hundred percent certain that he doesn't want to see him. "What's going to happen to him?" 

"The pod will likely...activate his Galran DNA," she responds, tapping her nails into the pad of her thumb. They look sharp. "He's only a quarter Galra. I'm only half, myself." 

"What el-" Lance stops mid-sentence because Krolia's body shimmers for a moment, and her purple fur begins to disappear. She looks slightly uncomfortable, but after a moment, the person standing in front of Lance is just that – a person. A human. She looks so much more like Keith now, and it makes Lance's chest hurt. 

" _Oaj'da_ ," she replies, and the translator doesn't interpret it, so he assumes it must be a species name. "Shape shifter. Handy for infiltration." 

"So he's gonna be able to change his form?" Lance looks down at Keith again, and wishes that there wasn't this glass between them. He wants to kiss the other boy's forehead, run his fingers through his hair, tell him that he loves him and that he will continue to love him no matter what he looks like. 

Because that's going to be Keith's biggest fear. He's going to wake up purple and furry and he's going to be even more convinced that they'll all hate him, and then Lance will lose him again. 

"What is going ON?!" Ah. There's Shiro, right on time, gaping at Lance and Krolia and the healing pod like he's going to start smashing things any minute. Luckily Hunk is with him, and he darts over to Lance, wrapping him up in a hug. 

"Man, we were so worried about you." Hunk rests his face on Lance's hair and Lance lets himself relax for a second, which is a mistake because now he feels like he's going to collapse. "Is Keith okay?" 

"We don't know," Krolia replies, and Lance can clearly see the indecision in her eyes. Does she return to her – presumably native – Galra form and reveal that she can shift? Or keep up her pretense as a human and risk them asking questions that she has no answers for? 

"Who the hell are you?" Shiro pushes past her to place his hands on the glass, and he gazes down at Keith. Lance can see the catch in Shiro's breathing when he realizes just how bad it was. And yet...

"How  _dare_ you," Lance snaps, pushing away from Hunk and squaring his shoulders to Shiro. "You were going to let him die and you're going to demand answers from the person who stepped up and helped him?" Shiro recoils as if Lance has physically hit him, and Lance thinks,  _good_. 

"That's not...it..." Shiro's raised a hand to his face and is running his fingers through his hair, looking helpless. He turns back to the woman, a furrow beginning in his brow. "I didn't want...I wanted us to be safe. I thought maybe he could wai-" 

"Maybe you should have trusted me to make that call," Lance growls, and he shrugs off the hand that Hunk places gently on his shoulder. "He was dying, Shiro. He still m-might." His voice breaks on the last word and he collapses forward, both hands pressed on the glass and gaze trained on Keith's closed eyes. "And this is going to c-change him and you w-wouldn't have said it was w-worth it." 

"Lance." Shiro's voice is soft now, and he doesn't sound angry. "Keith is like a brother to me. Of course I want him to be safe." Lance notices that Krolia's brow furrows at the mention of Shiro and Keith's familiar relationship. "I just didn't want to jeopardize Voltron or any of our allies." 

"Again, just trust me." Lance's voice is hard and the tears are pressing on the back of his eyes but he doesn’t want to cry. He wants to keep it together and show Shiro that he's reliable and trustworthy. "I knew Krolia wasn't an enemy." He gestures to her. "She's the Galra who helped us back when we crash-landed on that ice planet." 

"Galra?" Hunk and Shiro both ask at the same time, and Krolia sighs, shuddering a little and then performing a reverse process of her previous transformation. After a moment she stands in front of them as a Galra warrior. 

"I am Commander Krolia, an undercover agent for  _Klo_ _suov_ _r'art_." The translator takes a moment with the last phrase, and eventually comes up with "gray lions". She sees their confusion and continues. "We are a faction of the Blade of Marmora – surely you did not think the cell you worked with the only Galra defectors?" 

"I...we didn't..." Shiro looks confused. 

"I recall during my time on Earth," Krolia continues, walking up to the pod and staring down at Keith, "that one of your famous people once said something along the lines of - 'the first people that a tyrant conquers are his own'. Zarkon does not speak for all Galra, and not all Galra are loyal to him." 

"Wait, your time on Earth?" Shiro looks completely baffled now, and Lance realizes he's going to have to sit down when Krolia nods and responds. 

"Keith is my son." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Galran Translations**  
>  Plav kii - Mewling cub  
> Sana zed - Come here  
> Tya nei dus ra kii - Don't call me cub  
> Eguv a salku zvok - Be victorious or give your life (alternative to vrepit sa)  
> Ch'itrt taun'bi - Foolhardy idiot


End file.
